What Breaks a Family
by ficdirectory
Summary: AU. Part 3 of the What Makes a Family series. Five years after What Makes a Family see how things have changed. Features the rest of the team as kids/teens/young adults. *WARNING: Character death/suicide, self-harm, bullying, language, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder* NOW RATED M! **Nominated: Best Angst in the 2012 Profiler's Choice Awards**
1. Reintroductions

**A/N: I love that this is my 100th story, posted on the one-year anniversary of joining this site. This is a sequel to What Makes a Family. If you haven't read it, feel free to do so. It will give some great insight into what is going on in this story. For those who don't know this is an AU, not a romance. I also do my best to keep the storyline as realistic as possible, which might mean reading some things you are not comfortable with. Be sure to check the warnings as the story goes along. Emily is a single woman, an artist, and an adoptive mother. She came to know Penelope, Derek, JJ, Aaron and Spencer, through being a foster mom. Penelope aged out before being adopted, but the other four have been adopted by Emily. Dave and Carolyn remain trusted friends. I don't own any of the CBS-owned characters, but the Barrett-Mackey family is my own creation. This story takes place five years after What Makes a Family. **

Is a family still a family when it's broken beyond repair?

In five years, so much has changed, and so much has stayed the same.

Dave and Carolyn still lived up the street. Over the years, they had come to every one of the kids' school functions. Every grandparent's day for Aaron and Spencer. They were interview subjects for Derek and JJ who did school projects on time periods Emily had never lived through. Most of all, though, they were simply there, for every stage life. Every high and low. Emily appreciated them beyond measure.

The Barrett-Mackey's still lived too far away for Emily's liking. Nathaniel and Cary remained happily married and committed to raising their son, Matthew, who was now a teenager, and had come so far from when he was first adopted at eight. Emily still recalled the support group where they had met. How she and Nathaniel had bonded over creating art, and she and Cary bonded over their love of it. In recent months, Matthew had taken to calling Emily, and relying on her as a kind of mother figure. Socially, things would always be difficult for him, since Matthew was on the autism spectrum, and often he called to ask Emily questions about girls. Questions his dads couldn't answer, because they wouldn't know what a girl liked. Or what she meant when Matthew asked to hang out and they said "get real." It was heartbreaking to answer these kinds of questions, but Emily was glad to be there for him. She was glad he trusted her.

Emily's own children had grown up. Her oldest, Penelope, who never took her name and who was never officially adopted was 25. She lived on a farm in Pennsylvania with horses and cats. Emily couldn't be prouder of the person she has grown to be. She worked from home as a technical analyst and took Emily's calls free of charge. Penelope was more likely to send pictures of her pony, Buttercup, or newest kitten, Cali, than she was to send an updated photo of herself. Even Christmas cards and letters detailed how the animals were faring, leaving Penelope largely out of the picture. She was happiest surrounded by creatures who couldn't let her down, and her animals gave her comfort and security that people couldn't guarantee. But Penelope was still around if any of the kids needed her. She regularly took calls from Derek or JJ about college tests or money - things they didn't want to call Emily about. Penelope was instinctive about when and how much to share with Emily - and always encouraged the kids to tell her themselves.

They weren't exactly children anymore. Emily could easily recall Derek as a skinny, distrustful twelve-year-old, who had been through hell. He was 20 now, and in college on a football scholarship. Emily hadn't even suspected he had in interest in football, because baseball had been such a big part of his life. But if there was one thing she knew about Derek it was to never put limits on what he could achieve. He constantly surprised her. He graduated with highest honors two years ago, and insisted that he was ready to attend college out of state and make his own way in the world. Though it had been several years, Derek remained in touch with Anna, the specialist, who helped him deal with his past sexual abuse. He rarely spoke of it to Emily, and she was fine with that, as long as he was talking to someone. She insisted he call her once a week, and he grudgingly did, giving her one word answers about how college life was. It felt strange that he didn't need her anymore. But that made the moments when he called with a question about insurance or asked her to come to his game that much more special.

JJ was also in college, barely. At 19, she still struggled academically, and rarely wanted to be there, except if there was an occasion to show off her boyfriend. Like the rest of Emily's kids, JJ had a difficult time adjusting to being part of a family. JJ wasn't on scholarship and she was barely academically eligible. While she had gotten her stealing under control, the boyfriend seemed to have taken its place. Despite a million and one talks from herself, Dave and Penelope, JJ was adamant. They were all making a big deal out of nothing. Emily supposed she should be grateful JJ hadn't shown up pregnant, and prayed that didn't happen until she was good and ready. Emily felt lucky that at least JJ had a roommate - a girl named Jordan - that kept an eye on JJ and had a good head on her shoulders.

It felt strange to only have two kids in the house. Like the days when Aaron and JJ were the only two under her care. Except that now, it was Aaron and Spencer. Aaron was almost 15 and Spencer was nearly 12. They were both doing amazingly well academically, but in other areas, Emily wasn't so sure. Even after eight years, Aaron was likely to disappear on holidays or birthdays, assuming that his presence wasn't wanted for them. As a high school freshman, Aaron worked hard and was president of his class. He was dating Haley, the same sweet girl both he and Spencer had known in elementary school. But just as Aaron had feared, his little brother, Spencer, passed him up academically. Though three years younger than his older brother, Spencer was a high school senior. School was a breeze for him, but he had few friends. As the two boys couldn't have been more different, Aaron steered clear of Spencer, except if he needed a fact checked. Emily always felt it a little unfortunate that Aaron had forged such a close bond with JJ and Spencer had done the same with Derek. Now that the older kids were out of the house, it left the younger ones largely without an anchor. Spencer seemed particularly lost, reminding Emily of the four-year-old who was terrified of mundane things and called Derek his "first friend."

Currently, Emily could hear the sounds of her two youngest, bickering over television channels. Sergio was wrapping himself around her legs, always desiring to be involved. In this second, her life felt blessedly normal.

If only Emily could have known, so she might have treasured these last moments…the moments before everything changed.


	2. Carolyn

**A/N: In case you missed the warning on the story itself, I'll warn again here. This chapter contains a character death/suicide. No blood and gore, just shock and sadness. Obviously this is kind of spoiling but I wanted to give you guys a heads-up so you didn't walk into it blind. If this is not something you want to read about, please feel free to skip it. Thank you for all your support and reviews and especially if you choose to stick with me after this chapter. **

It was the 26th of October when everything changed. One moment, Emily was heading out to get the mail and the next, her phone rang.

"Emily? Oh, God… Please come…"

When she heard the voice on the other end, Emily didn't think. She dropped the ads and envelopes where she stood and took off for the house down the street where the people dearest in the world to her besides her children, resided.

When she arrived, the hair stood up on the back of Emily's neck. She could hear Dave, his voice breaking, as he called to Carolyn. Begged her not to do this. Pleaded with her to come back to him. Emily steeled herself for the sight and hurried into the bedroom.

Carolyn lay motionless while Dave clutched her hand, tears streaming down his face.

"She told me she was just going to lie down," he managed, his voice thick with tears. "I was in the kitchen…I got caught up in what I was doing…and then it was three hours later and I came to check on her. Oh, God… Carolyn, why did you do this?"

A numbness stole over Emily as she checked for a pulse, and couldn't find one. Her skin was cold to the touch. An empty prescription bottle and glass beside it told a complete story. There was a note left, peeking out from beneath the pillow on the other side of the bed. Emily suspected it told whatever was between the lines. Whatever sadness or trouble Carolyn had felt was too big to let them help with. She wiped her eyes and dialed 911.

"This is 911. What's the nature of your emergency?" the voice on the phone asked, as if it was any other day. As if Emily's life hadn't just been upended. As if a precious person hadn't taken themselves out of the world without a second glance.

"Yes. This is Emily Prentiss. I need to report a suicide…" she said, clearing her throat. Dave's broken sobs could be heard in the background and Emily wished like hell he had not been the one to find his wife of so many years.

Blood was rushing in her ears but Emily managed to catch the question the dispatcher asked. Was she familiar with the victim?

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Emily looked at the motionless body on the bed. At Dave, even now, holding Carolyn's hand.

"She's a family friend," Emily managed, when what she really wanted to say was, "She's my mother."

* * *

><p>It happened in minutes. The ambulance arriving to take Carolyn's body. Dave insisted on riding along. As soon as it was gone, Emily knew she had to go home. She had to tell the kids. How the hell was she going to tell the kids, when she could barely handle this herself? Aaron and Spencer were home, but JJ and Penelope were four hours away, in Pittsburgh and Derek was twelve hours away in Illinois. She couldn't break the news to them while they were so far from her, but she needed to tell them. Dave and Carolyn were over all the time. Carolyn had just stopped by this morning to see the boys on their way to school. The memory slammed into her with a new kind of clarity. How Carolyn had sat down and had a cup of coffee. How they had talked about nothing in particular, but when she left Carolyn had cupped Emily's face between her hands.<p>

"I love you. You know that, don't you?" she had said.

"Carolyn, of course I know that," Emily had responded, instinctively brushing off the intimacy of the moment. Physical touch and loving remarks were something she taught her children, but not something Emily had experienced in her own childhood.

"And I love the children. All of them. You'll let them know?" Carolyn had insisted.

"Of course," Emily had laughed. "If you did with Spencer and Aaron what you're doing with me, I'm sure they got the message."

They had spoken further, but Emily couldn't recall the subject or how Carolyn seemed. She couldn't recall the bulk of their conversation, in fact. Only that Carolyn loved her. Only that Carolyn must have known this morning that she would not be here hours later.

Emily blinked back tears. Had she even _said _she loved Carolyn back? As hard as Emily tried, she couldn't remember what her last words had been to the woman who meant so much to her. It felt wrong. It felt impossible. If not for the memory burned into her mind from twenty minutes earlier, Emily would cling to fantasy a bit longer. But as it was, she simply couldn't.

She had to tell the kids. What would she tell them? For the first time in all her years being their mother Emily contemplated not telling the truth. All of them came from traumatized backgrounds. For JJ, in particular, who lost her sister to suicide eight years earlier, this would be crushing. All the same, Emily knew she couldn't risk them finding out on their own. Her mind was spinning, but Emily tried her best to focus. She could sit down with Aaron and Spencer, and would need to shortly. But what about Penelope, Derek and JJ? How would she tell them? Over the phone just didn't seem right. Not for this.

Her phone rang again, and Emily's heart skipped a beat, thinking of Dave's frantic phone call. Instead, she saw Derek's name in the display window. It occurred to her then, and only then, that it was the day Derek called her to let her know how things were going at school. She had tried to institute a similar rule with the girls, but JJ refused. Penelope called faithfully, and more often than asked, to give updates on the animals and ask how things were at home. She tended to give veiled updates on JJ, with enough detail for Emily to understand how things were but not enough to break JJ's confidence in her. Penelope's presence in rural Pennsylvania was the only reason Emily agreed to JJ's attending the University of Pittsburgh, majoring in nothing Emily could recall.

Shaking her head, Emily finally picked up the call.

"Mom," Derek said, before Emily could tell him anything. His voice was strained and serious. Had he heard somehow, already?

"What is it, Derek?" she asked, trying to keep her voice calm.

"I'm hurt," he said, his voice lower and warmer than usual.

Emily wondered if it was the distance. She wondered if it was her sudden desire to have all her children here that caused the ache in her chest. Or if it was the way Derek came right out and told her the truth, when years ago, he would have lied to her face, even if he was obviously injured.

"Are you okay? What happened?" She forced herself to ask the necessary questions, even though she wanted to skip it and demand that he come home. If he was well enough to speak to her and coherent enough to call home and well enough emotionally to be honest, it couldn't be too bad.

"Tore up my knee," he managed. "At practice. The doctors say I need surgery. Can I come home?" he asked, sounding tentative for the first time.

"Derek, of course you can come home. You can always come home. I'll have Penelope find you a plane ticket and call you with the information," Emily decided. She ignored his request to do it on his own. Emily was going to have to get the girls home anyway. She needed to tell them this together.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Derek hobbled up the driveway supported on either side by Penelope and JJ. He didn't know what the hell JJ had been up to, but it didn't smell like anything good. She reeked like cigarettes and seriously bad life choices. He couldn't say anything to her now, though. Something was up. The last thing he expected was to have his sisters waiting for him to get off the plane. For Penelope to tell him that something was wrong at home. That Emily needed to talk to all of them together.<p>

That set Derek's heart in his stomach. On instinct, he glanced toward Dave and Carolyn's house, wondering if they'd be here, too. They were always around for family meetings, and he had just gotten a card in the mail from Carolyn today. It was short and to the point.

_Just a little something to let you know I love you. Love, Gram._

Their relationship had evolved in the past few years. As hard as it had been for him to start calling Emily mom, it hadn't been difficult at all to start calling Carolyn grandma.

It sucked to come home now. He wasn't naïve. He was going to lose his scholarship. He'd have to leave school. Derek had no idea what the hell he'd do with his life. Sports were all he'd ever been good at. Well, that and a few other things that he'd rather not think about. It was good to see the girls, though. And it would be good to see Spencer and Aaron. And his mom, of course.

"Here we go…easy does it…" Penelope said, helping him up the front steps, while JJ said nothing from his other side.

"What's _your_ problem?" Derek asked darkly, cutting his gaze to JJ.

"Stan's gonna be so pissed. I didn't even tell him I was leaving and we were supposed to go out tonight. He's gonna wonder where I am and then he's probably gonna take someone else to the party tonight…" she grumbled.

"If your boyfriend's treating you like that, I'll beat his ass," Derek promised. "You don't have to answer to any man. Tell him your every move. Mom raised us better than that."

"Mom doesn't _have _a man," JJ quipped.

"You mind your sassy mouth," Penelope urged with a good-natured smile. "The biggest mistake I ever made was destroying your mom's house…"

"She's _your_ mom, too," Derek grunted as Penelope rang the bell.

"Not officially," Penelope sighed in the second before Spencer pulled the door open.

* * *

><p>"Oh, thank goodness you're here! Something serious is going on. I'm extrapolating probabilities as we speak…" he said, not even bothering to greet them or explain how he knew it was something serious.<p>

Aaron emerged from downstairs next and waved in greeting. "Need help?" he asked. And when no one gave a definitive answer, he went to the car and brought in the luggage. He set it in the living room and sat on the couch between Penelope and JJ, while Derek was surrounded by Penelope and Spencer.

"Mom's been crying," he confessed quietly to JJ and she bit her lip.

"Any idea why?" she asked, but was cut short when Emily herself walked in from the kitchen and sat down in front of them. She looked terrible. Pale without makeup and kind of fragile. It made JJ nervous.

"Kids…" she started. "I have something to tell you…"

* * *

><p>Emily felt emotion closing her throat, staring at her five kids. She thought of what might as well have been Carolyn's last words. She loved the children. All of them. She wanted Emily to be sure to let them know. But how could she let them know <em>that<em>, while also telling them that Carolyn had taken herself from them for no reason she could fathom?

For a while, she simply stared at them. Spencer, a gangly preteen, with a penchant for wearing the same clothes days in a row if he thought no one was looking. Derek, a strong, muscular young man still in workout clothes from football practice, his knee in a brace. Penelope, with her hair dyed red and in French-braided pigtails. She seemed to have not even bothered to get dressed. She wore cowboy boots and printed pajamas. Aaron, dressed in khaki pants and a sweater, his hair combed neatly. And JJ in a skirt too short to cover the important parts of her and a tiny top. Emily saw bills poking out from the top of her halter, and grimaced inwardly, hoping to God that JJ was being safe.

"Mom? What is it?" Aaron asked.

"Guys… I'm so sorry to tell you this…" Emily managed, though her voice cracked. "But Carolyn died today."

Emily waited for the shock to hit each of them.

Penelope dissolved instantly, not questioning the fleeting nature of a human life.

Spencer denied it. "That's not possible. We just saw her this morning, didn't we, Aaron?" he asked, desperate for confirmation.

"Is Dave okay?" Aaron asked, ignoring Spencer's question. "We should go be with him. He shouldn't be alone."

"That's a good idea, honey, but he's not home right now. He's at the hospital right now," Emily said, sniffling.

She studied the kids' faces closely. Derek was quiet and reserved, staring at his lap. But JJ's eyes were fiery. She seemed to know without knowing.

And Emily knew the split second before it happened that JJ was going to ask the question she dreaded.

"How?" JJ demanded.

"She probably just fell or something. Or maybe it was a car accident and she got mixed up with another lady. You know, that happened the year before I was born…" Spencer rushed on, desperate to believe that what he was saying was true.

Derek gently squeezed his arm. "Kid. Stop."

"It appears…" Emily said, looking JJ in the eye, "that it was intentional."

That's when the bottom dropped out of their world. Penelope fell to her knees. Derek made a strange, strangled sound. Aaron sat, in shock, and looked dangerously close to passing out. Spencer sobbed openly and JJ bolted so fast that only Derek might have been able to catch her.

Emily knew she should comfort them, but she couldn't bring herself to move. And when she felt Penelope embracing her, she let the tears fall, wondering how they would ever pick up the pieces.


	3. Blindsided

Aaron couldn't breathe. This couldn't be real. It couldn't. He wasn't naïve enough to believe that Carolyn would be around forever, but when she died, he assumed he would have some warning. This was too abrupt. And while he sat, disbelieving, the truth was all around him. In the way his mother - who never cried - had tears tracking down her face. In the way JJ ran out as if someone was after her. In the way Penelope had fallen apart. In the way Spencer sobbed that it couldn't be true. Even in Derek's blank stare.

He couldn't stand to be around this, so Aaron did what came naturally. He removed himself from the situation. His mom might assume he was going after JJ, but he couldn't bring himself to do that. They were all hurting. It was taking all his effort not to run as JJ had. The only reason he didn't was that he knew that running didn't solve anything. So, he went out the front door and walked deliberately to Dave's house. He sat on the front steps, because someone should be here when Dave returned. He wondered how much his mom had seen. How Carolyn had done it. Then he felt sick to his stomach.

It wasn't something he wanted to wonder about. He wanted to close his eyes and go back to this morning, when she had stopped by the house to see him and Spencer off to school. It had been strange, but he hadn't thought much of it. He thought of her kissing them both goodbye, and his throat got tight, but Aaron fought back the tears. Running didn't help, but crying didn't, either.

Aaron thought about going inside the house, to clean up whatever mess was left behind. He stood up and tried the door handle. Usually Dave and Carolyn locked their doors but things had probably been rushed today. The door handle gave and Aaron stepped quietly inside. The big house held so many memories for him, and had seemed to shrink as he grew older. Aaron walked quietly, his heart pounding in his chest. The smell of something burning hung in the air, and Aaron wondered belatedly if that was how death smelled. He saw Dave's spaghetti abandoned on the stove, and Aaron set to work. He dumped the food down the garbage disposal, feeling sure Dave wouldn't want to look at the congealed noodles and sauce when he came back. Aaron washed all the pots and scrubbed down the stove. He ran the dishwasher. Belatedly, he spotted two coffee cups in the sink he had overlooked.

One had a lipstick print that matched Carolyn's shade of saucy mauve. The cups sat side by side in the sink and Aaron couldn't bring himself to touch them. Everything else was spotless. But when Aaron imagined Carolyn putting the cups in the sink, he couldn't bring himself to move them.

Instead, he moved methodically through the house with cleaning spray and a paper towel. He wiped muddy boot prints from the hardwood floor. He dusted furniture, but was careful not to disturb the paper Carolyn read, which was still beside the big easy chair in the living room, or glasses that rested on top.

Most other rooms seemed untouched, but Aaron saved the bedroom for last. He saw the comforter a mess on the bed and could swear Carolyn's scent of flowers and elegance still hung in the air.

Instead of breaking down, like he wanted to, Aaron pressed his lips together. He wiped the floor clean of muddy footprints. He made the bed just the way they liked it. Pillows piled on her side, while Dave's had a single one. He didn't touch the note peeking out from beneath Dave's pillow. Everything that belonged to his grandmother now seemed too sacred to touch. But when he fixed Dave's pillow he made sure to leave a corner of the note showing, so Dave would know it was there. Aaron was no snoop. Even if he had been, there was no way he would have been able to bring himself to read whatever Carolyn's last words to Dave had been. He didn't want to know.

Because he still wasn't ready to leave, Aaron set to organizing the desk, where Dave kept his coin collection. Old files made the bottom drawer too heavy and the mechanism that let it slide open and closed had buckled under the pressure. That's how he found what he found.

That's how Aaron learned it was possible to have his life turned on its axis twice in only minutes.

* * *

><p>Spencer couldn't stop crying. Derek tried to comfort him, but it didn't do any good. His hand didn't feel comforting, it felt flighty like insects instead of strong like a big brother's hand should feel. Spencer's memory was crystal clear from that morning. Carolyn's eyes, her face, and the way she hugged him for an extra long time and told him she loved him, and to always remember that. He's said of course he would remember it. But that wasn't what Carolyn meant. He felt sure of that much now.<p>

Turning away from all the sadness in the room, he buried his face in the brown fabric of the couch. Now not only JJ was gone, but so was Aaron. Now, it was just him, his mom, Derek and Penelope left. And no one seemed to know how to cope. Spencer hated losing control. It always made him feel crazy and gave him vague recollections of his biological mother, the literature professor. Was that what happened to her? Had she gotten so sad about something that she simply couldn't connect to reality again afterwards?

Spencer's insides twisted dangerously, the way the often did when he was overwrought. According to his mom, he frequently internalized stress until it manifested in him making himself sick. Right on cue, he darted into the bathroom to vomit. It hurt and still, after all this time, it scared him. But at the very core, he couldn't identify how he felt. Just that it was new, big, and strange. That the feeling kept climbing higher inside him, threatening to overwhelm him.

Carolyn couldn't be gone. It wasn't possible. But deep down inside, he knew she must be. His mom wouldn't lie about something like this. Just like that his careful life of facts and certainties had been blown apart like a house of cards in a strong wind. His optimism, that wasn't so strong in the first place, became like a fathomless vortex. As hard as he tried, he couldn't picture the afterlife people talked about in church. All Spencer could sense was a void. A big, black, cosmic nothingness. Carolyn didn't deserve that. His chest swelled with that indefinable emotion and his throat closed with tears. Suddenly, Spencer had a name for what he was enduring.

He felt hopeless.

And, the thought was in his head before he could stop it:

Maybe, Carolyn was, too.

* * *

><p>JJ hadn't gotten far. Her gas tank didn't allow it. So she parked down the block trying to get her shit together, and failing miserably. She wanted to get out of this place. She wanted to leave here and not look back. She wanted so many things. Carolyn most of all.<p>

It's not that they had been close. In fact, JJ had lots of memories of giving Carolyn trouble in those early days. Stealing things from their house and saying things she didn't mean. Still, Carolyn never gave up on her. So, why now?

But JJ knew. She surveyed herself in the cloudy afternoon light. Dressed like a stripper, who _would_ want to stick around for her? Her body was totally wrong, according to Stan, but he still wanted to see it all the time. She had started wearing foundation on her legs to cover up the ugly scars left there by her dad. They took Stan out of the mood. But even with them covered, JJ still could feel them. She could still remember the beating she had endured and the ugly words he had yelled, blaming her for not finding Janet sooner. She had been home, so why hadn't she been paying attention? Didn't he think that JJ asked herself those questions every single day?

She couldn't deal with this again. What kind of terrible person was she that two people she loved more than she could say had taken themselves from her intentionally? First her sister, Janet, and now Carolyn. And her parents hadn't stayed around after Janet. Everybody left her.

Against her will, tears choked her, and JJ tried to force them back. She beat the hell out of the steering wheel and screamed until she couldn't anymore. She couldn't stop crying. She couldn't stop shaking. Her whole world was collapsing in on itself for the second time in less than ten years and still, all JJ could do was sit back and watch it happen. There was heaviness in her chest that she couldn't get rid of. She knew from experience it wouldn't go away anytime soon, and that, more likely, JJ would just have to deal with it.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed a button and willed herself to not let emotion show. Stan didn't like weak girls. She waited and waited but he never picked up.

JJ stifled the urge to throw the phone and instead called her roommate, Jordan. The only person who she could count on to drop everything and be there for her. Even Stan wouldn't do that. Jordan Todd was a communications major who was everything JJ wished she were. Together and confident and always with great advice, but she didn't flaunt it or pretend she was better than anyone else. She was just there to help if anyone, not just JJ, needed it. So, it was beyond a relief when Jordan picked up.

"Can you come get me?" JJ asked, sniffling. She knew what she was asking wasn't fair, but she didn't know what else to do. She couldn't stay here and live through this a second time. If history repeated itself, it should only be a matter of time before Emily lost it and left JJ, too. Better to leave first.

"Where are you?" Jordan asked, mildly curious.

"I'm in Reston," JJ managed. "My grandmother fucking killed herself this afternoon," JJ managed, biting off the words.

"Oh my God… JJ, I'm so sorry…" Jordan managed, her voice breaking.

"I don't have any money and I'm out of gas," JJ managed.

"What about your family? Your mom and your brothers?" Jordan pressed gently.

"They don't care. None of them came to look for me. So, are you coming, or not?" JJ asked, getting more and more impatient.

There was a pause. "I'm sorry, JJ. It's an eight-hour roundtrip and besides, I really think you should stay with your family. They need you now."

"No, they need Carolyn!" JJ snapped and hung up, throwing the phone and not caring to look where it landed.

* * *

><p>If this had all happened when Penelope was eighteen, she felt sure she wouldn't have been able to deal with it. But as things stood now, she knew that someone had to be the one to help keep things together on the home front. First order of business was Emily, who was so sad it broke Penelope's heart. She had embraced her so long ago, it felt as if they were stuck like this. Penelope didn't dare back off until Emily was ready, and when she was, Penelope followed suit.<p>

She rose slowly and knocked on the bathroom door, bracing herself. She could tell by the sounds inside that she'd be facing a nasty stench and prepared for it, though her stomach pitched nervously. She found Spencer sick and sobbing, and Penelope rubbed his back and did her best to comfort him. Eventually he got unsteadily to his feet and she walked him back to the living room. Penelope was only mildly shocked to see Spencer climb into Emily's lap. Had he been any other 12-year-old, Spencer wouldn't have done this, no matter how upset he was. But, being unequivocally himself, Spencer always knew what he needed and unashamedly took comfort where he knew he could find it.

Penelope moved in front of Derek, and was careful not to touch him. Over the years they had formed a deep friendship and trusted one another as immensely as each could. Derek could still be skittish if he didn't expect physical contact, and the last thing she wanted to do was freak him out. So, she just squatted there in front of him, until he looked at her. His eyes, haunted and fathomlessly sad. Then, he nodded a little, giving her permission to move on.

Wiping her own eyes, Penelope stood. "I'm going to go out and look for the kids," she said, referring to JJ and Aaron. She didn't wait for permission, just left and started her search. It turned out, a search wasn't necessary at all. Aaron, whom she affectionately referred to as Mr. President ever since the age of nine, was on his way back home, his expression stoic and determined. She waved, but was unsure he even saw her.

JJ was equally easy to find, parked down the road in her beat up little car. She tapped on the window before pulling the passenger door open and getting in. "You should go home," she said quietly, taking in JJ's streaky makeup and tense muscles.

"I don't _have _a home," JJ said, bitterly, staring out the front windshield.

"Seriously, Jaje?" Penelope asked, her frustration outweighing her own grief for a split second. "You're seriously gonna go there and claim not to have a home? Or a family who loves you? We need to stick together at a time like this, not isolate. It makes things worse."

"'Cause you're such an expert," JJ muttered darkly.

"Yeah, JJ, unfortunately I _am_. And so are you, and so is Derek. Everyone has lost someone they care about. I get that you're hurting. I do. But you're not the only one. Go home to Mom," Penelope said, surprising herself by referring to Emily in such a way.

"Why so she can bail on me, too?" JJ said, and Penelope knew instantly that she was thinking of her biological mother, who had abandoned JJ, in the aftermath of her sister's death.

"Emily is not the same as your biological mother and you know it," Penelope told her seriously. "Now, be a woman and go back there. I'm not telling you to be strong or any of that crap, because I know it's not possible and it's not healthy. But you need to face this," Penelope said, grasping JJ firmly.

"What are you gonna do?" JJ asked, tears shining in her eyes.

"The right thing."

* * *

><p>Penelope's last stop was Reston Hospital. She found Dave in a quiet waiting room, sitting alone. He looked older than she remembered. Maybe it was because it had been a few years, but maybe it was because of this loss. She sat down quietly beside him, and when he turned to look at her, it took all Penelope's strength to hold his gaze and not look away. He looked confused and his eyes were so sad, Penelope could barely stand to look at them.<p>

She took his hand and didn't speak. When she did, her question was simple, yet pointless. "Can I do anything?"

He shook his head and a tear escaped, making her stomach drop in surprise.

It was a full minute before he spoke, his words heavy and soft:

"I don't want to leave her."

Penelope nodded. Hadn't she felt exactly the same when it had been her parents? Hadn't she felt that someone should stay with them? Hadn't she waited in the tiny room of a similar hospital alone, until social services were called? It wasn't so long ago, and the feeling wasn't wrong. In fact, it struck her as very, very right. Emotion closed her throat, but she forced herself to speak up anyway.

"We'll wait together," she said, squeezing his hand. "Until you're ready."

**A/N: You guys, I'm so sorry this next chapter has taken longer than usual to appear. I hit major writer's block and then my life happened, and THEN I had the chapter all typed out and inadvertantly deleted three-fourths of it. But at least it's here now. Thanks for your support and to those of you who are truly getting it. **


	4. Funeral

In the next few days, Emily went through the motions, helping Dave plan the funeral. There were more details than she was aware of, and Emily found herself beyond grateful for Penelope's unfortunate expertise in this area. At the time of their deaths, her own parents hadn't had surviving relatives. The crushing weight of planning her parents' resting places and services had fallen on seventeen-year-old Penelope. Emily could barely do this, and she was more than twice the age Penelope had been.

Penelope patiently went through casket options and floral options with Dave. She asked if there were any songs Carolyn especially liked. She took long pauses when emotion overwhelmed him, just waiting for the right moment to speak again.

Emily could do nothing productive whatsoever. She offered to help with the expenses, but Dave refused, a hint of temper flashing in his eyes.

"She's my wife. I'll take care of her."

The funeral itself was held days later on a cloudy day, just before Halloween. All of the children had been selected as pallbearers. With Derek's injury, he preceded the casket on crutches, and Dave took his place. Together, the seven of them carried Carolyn in the church and then later, in the cemetery. Dave, Spencer and JJ were on one side, and herself, Aaron and Penelope on the other.

It was all a blur for Emily. She was vaguely aware of the priest mispronouncing Carolyn's name, consistently giving the last syllable a long rather than short sound. It wasn't a purposeful slight, but it bothered Emily. Carolyn was the woman who insisted Emily went to school, who was there when she was sick. Who did everything a mother should do, that her own mother failed to. This was a woman too important to have something as unique as her name distorted, even if it was due to speech impediment and not carelessness.

The music was soaring and beautiful. There was the hymn, _Amazing Grace_, performed by another family friend. Sinatra's _Cheek to Cheek _and_ As Time Goes By_, which were older favorites of Carolyn. There was a more contemporary song, _To Where You Are_, which Carolyn had fallen in love with when it came out nearly twenty years ago. Emily knew that it comforted Carolyn after the loss of their infant son. There were beautiful instrumental pieces as well. The soaring strings of _Adagio for Strings_ and Bach's haunting _Air on a G _String, and the classy piano of Debussy's _Clair de Lune _that epitomized Carolyn.

Emily did her best to keep an eye on all the kids and be sure they were coping all right. Their reactions ranged from typical to unexpected. Penelope wept, while Derek was stoic, during the photo tribute Penelope had put together. Aaron actually sang under his breath to Sinatra's _Cheek to Cheek_, which he knew every word to, thanks to Dave and Carolyn's influence over the past eight years. He tapped his foot in his dark suit, and sang, "Heaven…I'm in heaven…and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak," with perfect pitch.

Emily inclined her head toward JJ and Spencer. He couldn't get comfortable, and kept staring at JJ boldly, to see if she was crying. When he saw she wasn't, he asked her why.

"It's sad. She was an important part of our lives," Emily overheard him saying. "So why aren't you upset about it?"

JJ crossed her arms, her face a mask of indifference. "I honestly could care less."

"You should be ashamed," Spencer told her seriously, his eyes wide and shocked.

It wasn't the first time Emily had to fight to keep from reacting to JJ's hurtful statements. Everyone coped differently. But if Emily were completely honest, she didn't have the energy to deal with JJ right now. She looked to Dave, to be sure he had not overhead, and prayed they could get through the graveside service in one piece.

* * *

><p>After the funeral, Aaron and Spencer accompanied Dave back to his house. He said he'd be okay, but Aaron didn't believe it. <em>He <em>wasn't okay and he hadn't been married to Carolyn for almost forty years.

Dave didn't comment on the clean house, he just walked through the house like he was in a daze. Spencer trailed him, touching everything. Aaron wanted to tell him to knock it off, but couldn't bring himself to do it. Eventually, Spencer left, his brown satchel slung over his shoulder. Aaron had asked him why he needed it at the funeral and Spencer had said something about having homework to finish. Aaron breathed a sigh of relief when his brother left for good. It was harder to be there for Dave, when he had to worry about Spencer, too.

There were tons of flowers in Dave's house now, and tons of food. Aaron got to work, finding vases and filling them with water, after he refrigerated all the casseroles. They looked really good. Aaron wished he felt hungry. But ever since Carolyn, he just hadn't had an appetite.

He called home once, to let his mom know where he was and that he planned to stay until further notice.

"Do you need anything? A bag?" she asked, sounding like she was in a dream.

"No, I'm fine. I can stop by home if I need anything."

Those were the only words he said that received a suitable answer, because whenever Aaron talked to Dave, it was like he wasn't really listening. When Aaron was the desk, studying Dave's coin collection - but really looking for an excuse to see if what he had found was still there - Dave slipped away. Aaron rode his bike all over and finally found him at the cemetery. Next to Carolyn's undone grave, and his baby son's tiny one.

"At least they're together," Aaron offered around the lump in his throat.

Slowly, Dave looked up from the ground, so much sadness in his eyes that Aaron had to look away. "Why didn't I see this coming?" he asked, sounding dangerously close to tears.

Aaron shrugged, feeling helpless. Feeling a strange sensation as he looked at the upturned earth, and suddenly remembering his biological parents and their habit of burying his favorite toys - and threatening to bury him - sometimes they had done more than threaten. Aaron felt sick inside.

"I don't know," he offered finally. Little comfort. He couldn't stand the quiet, so Aaron filled it. "I liked the songs. I think Carolyn would have liked them."

"You do, huh?" Dave asked, sounding - finally - a little bit like himself.

"_Cheek to Cheek _was my favorite," he said softly.

Dave blinked back tears and swallowed. "It was hers, too."

* * *

><p>JJ knew her mom wasn't thrilled by Stan's unplanned arrival. But the way she saw it, with Penelope bailing on them, it was just the same number of people as it would have been if she had stuck around. She scoffed to herself. Penelope was such a damn hypocrite, telling JJ to be a woman and stay around for the family, while she took off at the first opportunity with some lame excuse about the farm and her animals.<p>

Aaron was practically living at Dave's and Spencer was like a shadow. Their mom, too, just disappearing into the art studio for hours. It made it nicer for JJ, though. It meant she and Stan got the run of the place. Well, they _would have_, if not for Derek watching them all the damn time like he was the relationship police.

"Why don't we ditch your brother and go hang out somewhere else," Stan whispered in her ear, his breath was like cigarettes and cinnamon gum.

Just to get a rise out of Derek, and to turn Stan on, JJ kissed him, long and deep. Unfortunately for her, Derek was watching a football game and ignoring them. Typical. She took his hand and pulled Stan to his feet.

"I know a place," she whispered.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Derek interrupted. "Where do you two think you're going? And Stan, my man, you better be out this door by tonight. Mom ain't letting you stay over."

Stan snickered.

"_Bye_, Derek," JJ said, with just enough sarcasm to let him know she was pissed.

Once they were away from the house, JJ felt like she could breathe. She hated feeling trapped inside a house where grief was so thick. She lost herself in Stan. In the taste of him and the feeling of his body under hers. They weren't going to do anything crazy but she just needed not to think for a little while. Her car, full of gas now, thanks to Stan, was the perfect place for that.

"So glad you're here," she managed, between kisses. "It's been so hard…without Carolyn…"

"Shhh… Don't talk," he insisted.

So JJ shut up and tried to focus, but her mind still wandered to the funeral. To the feeling of carrying Carolyn's casket. To the sight of her. How it had sent JJ to the restroom to be sick, and how no one, not even her mom, had noticed. This was like reliving the worst moments of her life, and no one seemed to care. Well, Jordan cared, but not enough to pick her up. Penelope cared, but not enough to stick around.

Stan was the only one she could really count on.

* * *

><p>Derek hated being bored, and being injured meant being bored. He was used to having things to do, people to see, even schoolwork to complete. Now, he was wasting his days in front of the television, icing his knee to the right specifications, so that it would be ready for surgery in a few weeks.<p>

He did his best not to think of Carolyn. Every time he did, it was like a giant hand was squeezing his insides. It hurt like hell. Like losing his own parents, but worse, because there wasn't any warning. He did his best to keep it together at the funeral. To help where he could. There was no denying, though, that with his knee injury, Derek felt helpless. And it was no secret that he didn't do helpless well. Feeling helpless reminded him too much of his life as a kid, after his parents died. Of the abuse he endured at the hands of that bastard of a family friend.

Derek hadn't called Anna yet, and he hadn't confided in Penelope because she high-tailed it out of here as soon as she could come up with a reasonable excuse. Derek didn't blame her, but he did sort of wish that she had stuck around. She was a great listener, especially when JJ was raising hell with that boyfriend of hers, and when he just felt wrong talking to his mom and his little brothers.

He got up, prepared to hobble his way to the bathroom, when his left crutch caught on something and he nearly went sprawling. He glanced down, and swore, attempting to shake off the long strap of Spencer's messenger bag that had twisted impressively around him.

"God damn it, Spencer!" Derek exclaimed, glad their mother was in her studio with her music playing.

Derek backed up and sat on the couch, pulling the bag toward him to untangle it. The flap fell open and Derek continued to curse as he unwound the shoulder strap from its snug position, strangling the bottom of his crutch.

He would have missed what was inside, if he hadn't needed to turn the whole thing over to be free of it. But Derek had mindlessly dumped out the contents, not caring if Spencer lost his place in physics or statistics in the process. That's when he saw it.

The handgun.

"You know, swearing frequently indicates either a lack of intelligence or a lack of creativity…" Spencer said, trailing off as he took in his spilled bag. "What are you doing in my stuff?" he asked, his tone measured.

"_Why_ do you have this?" Derek demanded, grabbing Spencer by the shoulders and shaking him. And then he watched, as Spencer pressed buttons on his phone and slowly turned the screen to face Derek.

* * *

><p>Spencer swallowed and tried to block out the sound from the video that was playing. It happened the day after Carolyn did what she did. He'd been in the library when Harper came up and told him that Alexa wanted to meet him behind the field house. Since Alexa was someone Spencer privately harbored a crush on, he had been eager to meet her. He hadn't thought it through. He met her there just after 2 PM. The football team was waiting. They stripped him naked and tied him to a goal post at the end of the football field. Countless kids stood on the sidelines, watching. Not one spoke up. Not one teacher walked by. Not one of the football players listened as he begged them to let him go. He was there for almost ten hours by the time he managed to get out of the ropes. By then all the kids had left to go home. He walked through the door at midnight, and with everyone mourning Carolyn's loss, no one noticed that Spencer was not where he should have been.<p>

The only thing worse than going through it was seeing the video on the internet. So, Spencer made a decision. He would take himself out of the equation. He couldn't be bullied anymore if he didn't exist. So, he planned to bring the gun with him and get it over with in front of as many kids as possible. Many of them had lunch the same period as he did. Aaron did not. This had been a carefully thought out plan. Thanks to Carolyn, he knew how devastating suicide was. Thanks to Dave's blinding grief, Spencer had been able to go to his house and take his gun, with no one the wiser.

But, as it turned out, he hadn't thought it through carefully enough. Now Derek knew. Now there was no chance of escaping this hell. No chance of showing kids older than he was how much damage they were doing by treating someone else like they were trash. Like they were a joke.

Derek watched the whole video. All in all it was only twenty minutes. Not long in the grand scheme of things, but long enough for Derek to grow pale. Spencer didn't fight when Derek lifted up his shirt and winced at the rope burns across his thin body. His arms, chest and stomach. They were on his legs, too. At night, they burned, as if Spencer were still trying to escape. Still, it wasn't the ropes that hurt the most. It was the total exposure. It was the laughter. It was the humiliation and the fact that he was so gullible to think that a 17-year-old would want to go out with a 12-year-old. It wasn't logical in the least. So why had he fallen for it?

"What are you doing with the gun?" Derek asked in a serious, measured tone. He was looking deep into Spencer's eyes.

"I was going to show them…." he began.

"Kid, you can't take matters into your own hands, you know better. You'll get arrested," Derek said, incredulous.

"No. I wasn't going to hurt them. Just me," he whispered. "Then they would know. Then they would know how it feels…"

Derek was silent for a full minute before his mouth made a tight, thin line. "Sit your impulsive ass down," he said, removing the clip from the gun and tucking it in his pocket. "And do not even think about moving. We're gonna fix this," he promised, and made his way over to their mom's studio door, where he pounded on it like Spencer's life was at stake.

Which, Spencer guessed, it probably was.

**A/N: Wow, this was a tough one, too. Hopefully I can get through all the drama soon. I love them all, but Derek as the big brother here, especially. I was going to leave it at the Derek section and then decided it needed Spencer's to feel complete. So glad Derek's on top of his game. Thanks again to all of you who've been reading. Oh and thank you to dreamsweetmydear for suggesting the inclusion of this specific instance of Spencer being bullied.**


	5. Quicksand

Emily had been staring at a blank canvas for hours, her music - simple piano melodies - playing loudly in the background. Ever since Carolyn's death, Emily had not been able to paint a single thing. Whenever she tried, the image of the room in Dave and Carolyn's house, dedicated to her paintings came, unbidden, to Emily's mind. It broke her heart.

Losing Carolyn had left Emily walking through a fog. For the first time in her life, she had not been able to connect with her kids. She could not check in with them and see how they were doing. She could not sit down with JJ and have a serious talk about that awful boyfriend of hers. Or talk with any of the boys about how they might be feeling. Penelope had barely said goodbye before heading back to Pennsylvania. Emily had hardly glanced up from what she was doing. It shamed her, the knowledge that she was failing her children so obviously and yet there was nothing she could do about it. Emily was drowning in grief.

She could not close her eyes without having nightmares of finding Carolyn there to greet her. Sometimes, Emily dreamed of her own baby, long dead, and the Rossi's baby, and Carolyn all together, somewhere else. She thought of Carolyn mothering Emily's child the way Carolyn had mothered her. That thought gave her comfort, but only for a moment. Because all that really registered was the deep sense of loss. All that really got through was the fact that Carolyn was gone. Emily found herself unable to recognize the gift she still had in all the people who were still here, because Carolyn's absence was so consuming. There were moments, even now, four days later, when Emily would highlight Carolyn's name in her phone. Where she would nearly call her. There were moments when she could swear she heard Carolyn's voice, announcing her presence in their house.

Losing Carolyn felt like an empty ache that could never be filled or adequately healed. The shock still had yet to completely wear off. Emily still had moments where she thought of telling Carolyn about something Spencer said, or suggesting they go shopping for antiques, as they had been planning to do for months, but had never gotten around to.

The abrupt sound of knocking jerked Emily out of her thoughts. She rose, and numbly walked to the door of her studio, and pulled it open to see Derek's ashen face on the other side.

"What is it?" she asked, and then she noticed what he held.

Balancing carefully, he handed it to her, and then the clip from the pocket of his sweatpants. "You need to come. Spencer had this in his bag. Loaded. He was gonna go to school and do what Carolyn did, in front of his classmates. They're tormenting him, Mom. It's bad, and we didn't notice."

It only took a second for Emily to hand them back to Derek. "I need you to do something with these. Get rid of them."

"It's Dave's."

"Then take it back to Dave's, and hide it someplace better than where he's got it now. Change the location and the combination on his safe. And keep them separate from each other," Emily said, indicating the gun itself and the clip.

Derek nodded tightly. "I'll be around if you need me."

The news was like ice water over Emily's head. In a second, she was aware; all her senses sharpened and ready to take on this new crisis. She walked slowly out to the living room and crouched in front of Spencer.

"Talk to me," she said, leaving no room for argument. "Right now."

Spencer sat motionless, his posture defeated. He was pale and thin, his hair long and greasy. It remained a battle to get him to shower more than once a week, because Spencer felt that was more than adequate. With telling the kids, planning the funeral and the funeral itself, hygiene had fallen by the wayside. In fact, it took Emily several seconds to register the fact that Spencer was still in the suit and tie he'd worn for the services. He remained silent, his eyes downcast.

Emily tipped his chin, the way she'd done when he was little, encouraging him to look at her.

"Did Derek tell you?" he asked softly.

"I want _you_ to tell me, Spencer. What happened? What is going on?"

"They hate me," he said, so matter-of-factly it broke Emily's heart.

"Who hates you?" she prompted.

"Everyone. All the kids at school."

"Spencer, you only just started your senior year. You'll make friends," she encouraged. "Anyone who teases you is probably just jealous and doesn't know how to approach you."

He shook his head sadly. "It's not that. I can't talk to you about it. It's too embarrassing."

"Honey, you can tell me anything…"

Temper flashed in his eyes. "Can I tell you how they call me dozens of offensive names every day? How they tell me I'm going to go crazy like my biological mother? Can I tell you how a girl spit a mouthful of food all over me? How the same boy every day knocks my lunch tray out of my hands, not just once, but every day? That's approximately forty times since the school year started. Can I tell you the place they kicked me in the middle of the hall? Can I tell you how they pulled my pants and underwear down and no one did anything. Not one other student. Not one teacher. Can I tell you what happened the day after Carolyn died?" he demanded, tears filling his eyes and spilling down his cheeks.

Emily stared, horrified. How had she not known this was happening? How had she not received one email about what was happening to her son? "What happened after Carolyn died?" Emily asked, though she didn't want to know.

Hesitantly, he pressed a button on his phone and shoved it at her, before getting up and walking away.

"Stay where I can see you," she told him. "I'm not kidding. You're going to be at my side until we figure this out."

The reaction was simultaneous, both from the phone and from Spencer. The video began to play, and across the room, Spencer lost control. She quickly forwarded the video to Penelope urging her not to watch it, but to figure out who had taken it, so they could determine who was onscreen, stripping her 12-year-old down to nothing and tying him up as he screamed at them to stop.

In the few seconds it had taken Emily to get an idea of what was happening on the video and forward it to Penelope, Spencer had slid down the wall and was beating his head against it. His face was completely vacant of expression. It was something Emily hadn't seen him do in years. Not since he first came as a four-year-old, when it was the only coping mechanism he knew.

She didn't wait. Emily pulled him away from the wall, and took his place. She held him tightly, Spencer's back against her chest. And it was only in this moment that Spencer fell apart, sobbing.

"I'm so sorry, honey. I'll fix this, I promise you," Emily said, pressing kisses to his hair. Her mind raced with everything she had to do. Find Spencer a therapist. He had stopped seeing one a couple years before, when he said it caused him to feel marginalized. She had to speak to the high school principal. She had to make sure her son didn't descend so far into hopelessness that he lost all hope in the meantime.

"There are 678...seniors," he told her, his voice breaking. "Multiplied by four, it's 2,712 students in the school. You can't…fix…_everyone_! And everyone hates me! Everyone watched!"

"Does Aaron know?" Emily asked carefully, even though she felt certain she knew the answer. If Aaron knew, his moral compass would not allow his younger brother to be so badly bulled and never speak a word about it.

"No, and I don't want him to. Don't…tell him this…Please, Mom…"

"I will deal with this. I promise you. Honey, I would never have continued to send you to that school if I knew this was happening to you. Just hang on, okay?" She kissed the top of his head.

* * *

><p>The next day, Emily left Derek in charge of Spencer, with strict orders to keep him busy and not let him out of his sight. Derek nodded seriously, and promised to keep an eye on everyone, including JJ, who had come in at 4 AM and was still sleeping, and Aaron, who hadn't returned from his vigil at Dave's. Derek had hidden the gun thoroughly this time and advised his mom to give Spencer specific instructions about not being allowed over there.<p>

Emily left a comprehensive list of chores and schoolwork and helping Derek to keep Spencer occupied. Then, she took Spencer's phone and the information she had received from Penelope into her 7 AM meeting with the principal.

"Ms. Prentiss. Have a seat." The principal was a graying man with a kind face and glasses. He always wore suits - today's was gray with a red tie - and he looked mere years away from retirement.

She obliged, clutching Spencer's phone in her hand.

"I understand you have some concerns about Spencer."

Emily spoke plainly. "Who the _hell _is in charge at this school, and what's your policy against vicious name calling and assault on school grounds?" she demanded.

"I beg your pardon?"

"This video was taken four days ago," she said, pressing play and setting it on the principal's desk. She watched him take it in. Watched him grow pale. "I have the name of the student who took the video. I'm withdrawing Spencer from your school and I demand that these students see appropriate consequences. Suspension at the very least for the observers and expulsion for the football team this school is so proud of. And if not, then you can count on hearing from a lawyer." She turned, prepared to leave, but paused momentarily at the door. "If Aaron is in danger here, I swear that I won't hesitate to pull him out as well. Good day," she said before exiting the office.

Emily made quick work of walking to the other end of school, where she knew Aaron's first class was located. He was the only freshman boy to have made it into Concert Choir. It was no small feat, as most boys were first admitted to Varsity Choir and then to Concert Choir, which was the highest level, and an honors class. She saw him, waiting outside the doors. When their eyes met, he got to his feet.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, sounding worried. "Did something happen?"

"I want you to answer me, truthfully," she told him, not wasting time. "Are you being mistreated here?"

"No, I promise. No one's done anything to me," he said, his voice even. His eye contact was steady.

"Okay," she said, breathing a sigh of relief. "I want you to promise me that if something happens to you…if anyone teases you or hurts you, you'll come to me."

A smile threatened at the corner of Aaron's mouth. "Mom…after what I've been through? High school is no big deal."

"Well, it is for some," she said, keeping Spencer's name out of it. "How are things at Dave's?" she asked. "We miss you at home."

"I miss you guys, too, and they're fine. Dave's not too talkative, but neither am I. Mostly I do my homework and he watches _M*A*S*H* _and _Bonanza_ reruns on TV. He sits in his chair and I sit on the floor because I don't want to sit in Carolyn's…"

The warning bell rang, and Emily took it as her cue to leave. "Spencer's not feeling well, so I kept him home today," Emily said. She knew she'd have to tell Aaron the truth sooner rather than later, but today, this would have to do.

"All right, so I won't look for him afterward. Love you, Mom," he said, giving her a hug, unprompted.

It was these moments that made Emily treasure her children more than she thought possible. But they were also the moments that made Emily see how they could be targeted and hurt. Typical 14-year-olds didn't spontaneously hug their mothers especially with their classmates milling around. But instead of ridicule, Emily heard a chorus of Aaron's choir friends greeting her.

"Hey, Miss Prentiss. We're sorry about your mom."

That gave her hope.

That made her feel - if only for a moment - as if she were no longer sinking.

**A/N: Do you have something you have always wondered about What Breaks a Family, or any of my other stories? It just so happens that I've been selected as Author of the Week over at the Chit-Chat on Author's Corner forum. Feel free to stop by and leave your questions for me. I've loved answering them so far! Thanks so much to everyone who's reading, alerting, favoriting and reviewing. It really means a lot to me. I love hearing your thoughts and knowing how invested you are. **


	6. Strength

JJ groaned and rolled over as the sound of the vacuum cleaner ripped her from a less than peaceful sleep. She jerked back, seeing Stan in her bed. How the hell had he gotten here? Had he been there when she slipped in the house early this morning. God, only four hours ago? She couldn't remember.

"God, JJ," Stan whined. "Does your family have _any _consideration for other people?"

"Not when you stay out until four in the morning," Spencer called matter-of-factly. In the ensuing seconds, he had somehow nudged the door open and proceeded to vacuum JJ's room. He surveyed the two, squished side-by-side in her twin bed. "Did you know that all it takes is _one_ time having unprotected sex to conceive a child? And I think we all know that Stan isn't an ideal candidate to father _anyone's _children." He spoke matter-of-factly, as he always did, and eyed Stan.

"God, Spencer! Would you just get the hell out?" JJ exclaimed, losing her patience.

"I'm gonna beat your ass, kid!" Stan threatened, getting out of bed and across the room in seconds.

"Stan! Don't touch him!" JJ cried out. She did her best to pull him back. It was one thing to be annoyed by her little brother. It was one thing when Stan hit _her_. It was another thing entirely, when he threatened to beat up a child.

Spencer's eyes were wide and terrified when Stan grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and hauled him forward.

"You lay a hand on him and I _will _get your ass thrown in jail," Derek promised, his voice low and threatening. JJ hadn't even seen him coming, but now he filled the doorway, imposing, even on crutches. "Get out of this house. Now." For a good measure, Derek took a step toward Stan.

"Your family's full of psychos!" Stan screamed at JJ, releasing Spencer roughly and pushing him back. "I'm out. JJ, you coming, or what?"

"No," she said, feeling sure of that much, at least. She crossed her arms. "Go home, Stan. We're done."

"Ooh, the little girl talks a big talk…" Stan taunted. "You can't _live _without me…"

"Oh, I'm _pretty sure _I can…" she snapped back, narrowing her eyes at him. Something she never would have risked, had Derek not been in the room.

Stan left loudly, under Derek's supervision. He locked the door behind him and then directed both JJ and Spencer to sit on the couch.

"You think I don't know what he's doin' to you?" Derek asked, his voice low and dangerous as he eyed JJ.

"Too little too late, Derek, I just ended it, remember?" JJ said, unable to keep her sarcasm in check.

"Yeah, well it almost _was _too late," Derek seethed, avoiding eye contact with Spencer who was pale and shaking after his encounter with Stan. "You think it's cool to let a man hit you? You think it's cool to let a man hit a kid? Your _brother_?" Derek asked. He walked over, and pulled up Spencer's shirt. "Kid's already been through hell. He doesn't need your asshole of a boyfriend laying a hand on him, too."

JJ stared, horrified. His pale stomach was marred with raised red and purple welts. "Spencer, what happened?"

But Spencer looked away, his gaze distant.

"Next time you think about letting a man mistreat you, think about this. You and Spencer ain't so different. He's been hurt before and so have you. What you see in him, for God's sake, JJ, see it in yourself. We love you, and we're not about to lose you to that shit." Derek exhaled, one long breath. "I'm done lecturing. Get up and get moving. Help Spencer clean, and for God's sake, put some real clothes on. You're home now. House rules."

JJ wanted to roll her eyes. Wanted to pretend that this didn't matter. But, God. When she thought about Spencer and what Stan had almost done, and then to find out that he'd already been hurt? It was too much to make light of. So, she excused herself and showered off the evidence of the previous night, pulling on comfortable sweats that were still folded in her closet. Looking there for clothes reminded JJ of when she first moved in, and of the subsequent months and years when she had next to nothing in her room because she couldn't control her impulse to steal and hoard other people's things. She had come a long way, but was it really that far, if she was out partying? Dating a loser? Losing a second person she cared about more than she could say? Slowly, she returned to the living room, where Spencer was dusting surfaces in his long pajama shirt.

"Come on," she said, pulling him toward her in a hug. "You know what I think? I think we ought to go get Aaron to help us out."

"He's at school. And if he weren't at school, he'd be at Dave's. I'm not allowed over there," Spencer passed along, his voice soft.

"Well, I've got another idea… Why don't you hang out with Derek, and I'll do the chores?"

"I have to stay busy. Mom said," he told her, not quite looking her in the eye. It was then that JJ knew. There was more going on than Spencer getting beat up. His being home from school, his new guideline about not going to Dave's, and now, this weird rule from their mother that he had to stay busy.

"Derek, what's going on with him?" she asked, in a whisper.

"Trust me. You do _not _want to know," he said and his eyes were haunted.

She shivered a little, without explanation. God, she wished Penelope were here. Or Aaron. She always connected better to them than she did with Derek or Spencer. She needed someone to talk to after breaking up with Stan. After what he had tried to do to Spencer. She was going to be in major trouble when their mom got home and heard about this. It wouldn't matter that she tried to pull him back, refused to leave with him, broke up with him. All that would matter was that he hurt Spencer and that he hurt _her_. JJ bit her lip and breathed deep.

After all she'd learned living here, she knew nothing got better by running. Only if she stayed and faced it. But she just couldn't. Not today. This was too much. So, she quickly took care of the rest of Spencer's list of chores and then quietly left. Derek was on the couch doing something on his phone. Spencer, beside him on the laptop. Neither one looked up as she pulled out of the driveway, feeling herself lose control, the further she got from home.

* * *

><p>Aaron was in choir when he got the first inclination that something wasn't right. First, one pass arrived from the office. Then another. Then another. Until most of their basses and tenors were gone. When he asked about it, he was told he should know. It was about Spencer.<p>

That made Aaron curious, but he had two tests today and a presentation and he couldn't waste time thinking about school gossip. It wasn't until he was on his way back to Dave's that he thought about Spencer again. Today was Halloween. Maybe that was the reason he had stayed home. With him, illnesses were strange and varied. A few years ago, he convinced their mom to take him to get his eyes checked so he wouldn't have to take the static arm hang test with the other 14-year-olds. Spencer was ten that year. Aaron didn't blame him.

He knocked twice and then let himself inside with the key Dave let him use. Aaron found him in the easy chair, staring at the news. That's when it hit Aaron. There had been cameras on the lawn of the school, and everyone was making a huge deal about it, but every time someone tried to tell him about it, Aaron had brushed them off.

"What is it?" Aaron asked.

"You need to go home. Check on your brother," Dave said seriously.

Aaron looked past him to the television screen. The sound was muted, but closed captioning was working: _More than one-hundred teens at local high school have been suspended or expelled after the hazing of a minor._

He didn't need to see anymore, just promised Dave he'd be back and then ran down the street and burst through the door of his own house. He saw his mother at the table with books spread out in front of her.

"Honey, are you okay?" she asked. She looked tired. Like she'd had a long day.

"How's Spencer?" he returned, answering her question with one of his own. He dropped his voice. "It's on the news, Mom. Dave and I both saw it. How come you didn't say anything?" He wasn't judging, just curious.

"Spencer asked me not to. He didn't want to worry you. But I was going to tell you, Aaron. Today's just been a crazy day. I had to go by the high school and ream out your principal, pick up home schooling stuff for Spencer, drive Derek to get his knee looked at, and yell at that buffoon of a boyfriend your sister has. Have you seen JJ?" she asked, finally pausing for a breath.

"No," Aaron answered, struggling to follow the conversation. "Did you know the whole football team got expelled? Did you know they _hazed _him?" Aaron asked, his voice heavy with emotion.

Wordless, she nodded.

Aaron swallowed around a lump in his throat. "Why didn't he tell me? I would have helped him. I mean, I know we hate each other most of the time, but I would've done something…"

"I know you would have. You're a good big brother." And just like that, his mom was out of her chair and embracing him. The feeling reminded him of when he was little. Him, feeling tense, and her, unable to stop from loving him.

He tried to breathe deep. To calm down. But this was too much. The combination of Carolyn, what he found in the stupid desk, and now his little brother not even trusting him enough to confide in him… The whole school knew. They must've assumed he didn't care about what happened to Spencer. He clenched his jaw.

"Hey. Relax," Aaron heard his mom's no-nonsense voice in his ear. "I don't want you on Spencer's case for not telling you," she said, reading his mind like she did sometimes. "He dealt with it the only way he knew how and he's still dealing with a lot. Be supportive."

"But Mom, everyone knew except me…" Aaron said, wanting her to know how much that sucked.

"I'm sure there were other people who didn't know…" she said, but she didn't sound sure.

In the end, Aaron did the only thing he could. He stopped by Spencer's room, which they used to share, and stuck his head in. "Hey. You okay?" he asked.

"I assume you heard…" Spencer said, his tone betraying nothing. He was sitting on his bed, I-Pod in his ears. Aaron could hear classical music when Spencer removed the earbuds.

"Yeah… So, who's that? Beethoven or something?" Aaron guessed.

"It's Bach. The song from Carolyn's funeral. I know it's slightly morbid, but I actually enjoy it," Spencer mused, his expression strangely peaceful. "How's Dave?" he asked after a moment.

"He sent me here to check on you," Aaron revealed. "I don't think he'll be satisfied unless he has a full report on you." He smiled, but naturally, Spencer took the words at face value.

"Emotionally, I'm quite confused and I think I'm developing some type of stress disorder. The therapist mom found recommended listening to soothing music and being really gentle with myself, so I'm trying that. I'm not allowed to harm myself, so I haven't done that…since yesterday…"

Aaron sighed.

"I'm pretty high-strung, but everyone assures me that's normal after a trauma…and physically I'm healing, but it's slow. Psychologically it will take a lot longer," he told Aaron seriously, shoving his earbuds back in his ears.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help you. And by the way? All those assholes got expelled," Aaron said, getting up to leave. He wasn't sure Spencer could hear him with the music on, and was almost out the door when Spencer spoke again.

"Penelope called. She offered to release unrecoverable viruses into their computers." For the first time Aaron could recall in days, Spencer smiled.

"Did you tell her that as the president, I'd advise against that?" Aaron asked, smirking.

"Yes, but she said she'd be willing to go against regulations if necessary. I reassured her it wasn't.

"All right. I'll be at Dave's. But call if you need me and I'll come home," Aaron promised.

"Can you tell Dave hi for me? And that I remember all those times they took care of us and that time when you gave them your Christmas ornament from school? That's a good memory. Maybe it'll make him smile."

"Maybe," Aaron echoed. "Hey," he said after a pause. "You know we love you and whatever, right?"

Spencer met his gaze. His eyebrows raised in a question. "I'm sorry? What did you say?" he asked, hitting a button to mute the volume on his music. If Aaron didn't know better, he might think Spencer was doing this on purpose, just to hear the sentiment more than once.

"I said, do you know we _love_ you?" Aaron repeated, even though it was more embarrassing to say it twice. After losing Carolyn, Aaron didn't want to waste an opportunity like this, and something told him there was more to what was going on with Spencer than he knew.

"Of course," Spencer said. "But it's nice to hear."

**A/N: So, this is the third time I'm trying to upload this. I'm hoping the third time's a charm and you can all read it. Thanks for all your support and lovely reviews! I really appreciate them!**


	7. Angel

**A/N: Hopefully you guys have seen that Chapter 6 showed up this morning! So feel free to read that before you read this!**

Penelope's favorite place was her farm. The old house was a comfort, with its creaky floors and its complete lack of décor. It looked more like it belonged to an elderly lady than to a twenty-something shut in, her two horses and six cats. It had been two months since Carolyn died. No one had felt much like celebrating Christmas. Or New Year's either. Tonight was New Year's Eve, and Penelope's big plans included giving the kitties some gourmet treats and slipping the ponies some sugar. Her 26th birthday was two days away, and she the highlight of her day was tromping down the drive to see if Emily sent a package. Penelope would sooner snuggle up with a good book, or call her family. As they didn't seem to be doing the greatest lately, Penelope stopped doing that as much.

Derek was scheduled for knee surgery any day. JJ had never come back to Pennsylvania and was gone more often than she was home, according to Emily. Aaron had returned from Dave's a while ago. He seemed all right, but with all the upheaval, Penelope doubted that was true. Spencer was thriving academically but struggling everywhere else. Those little jerks at school really messed him up. She hated that she couldn't do anything more about it than tracking the one measly kid who took the video - seriously, what was _wrong_ with kids today?

Penelope curled up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate and, as usual, the cats came running. Pirate - her sleek, black gelding that reminded her of Black Beauty - and Buttercup - her tiny, pretty, golden filly - had to stay outside, and that bummed Penelope out pretty majorly. But the fact was, there wasn't enough room for them inside. Pirate was suitably ornery. Whenever Penelope tried to ride him, he dropped his head so she would slide off his neck. Buttercup was a sweetheart, who liked to be social. She would be a dream to ride, but right now, she was still too small, and fearful.

The cats, though, could remain inside, and never let Penelope forget they were around. All her animals were rescue animals. Cali was the newest cat, a little diva calico, who initially hissed and scratched at anyone who came near her and was now explicit about only letting Penelope pet her. She was too thin, but Penelope was doing her best to fatten Cali up. Just before Cali, Penelope had rescued The Brown Kitten, who, as his name suggested - had all brown fur - along with a strange eye condition. He was a fun, but clumsy little guy, and always ate the other cat's food, climbing half in the dish for better access. Casper was all white and full of personality. He ran around the house and loved to play. Hide and seek was his favorite game, and he laid across her shoulders when she ate dinner, not to sneak food, but just to see what was happening. Casper was definitely the most resilient of all her pets. Miss Kitty was another calico who was feisty and defensive. It had taken a long time before Penelope could even touch Miss Kitty, without the tiny thing shaking in terror. It made Penelope sick to think about someone hurting her. The two she'd had the longest were also the biggest. Peaches was named for her fur, like the others, and she was a longer haired cat, who had a motherly air about her. She stayed out of the way, mostly, but purred if loved on. Bagheera reminded Penelope of Emily's cat, Sergio. He was all black, and so large he bordered on obese. She tried to keep him on a diet but he wanted no part of it, and yowled constantly, as if tortured, when The Brown Kitten ate his food.

It was Casper of course, who came for hot chocolate, and Penelope gently shooed him away. "You can't have this," she told him seriously. "I already told you. Chocolate isn't good for you. You'll get sick and die, and frankly? I can't handle another death. Go drink your own water. Casper stared at her and flicked his tale back and forth.

"Oh, really?" Penelope said dryly. "You think so, huh? Well, I already gave you a treat, so you're just going to have to deal with it." She sighed and moved to the kitchen table when it was obvious Casper wasn't convinced of the fact that chocolate was lethal for him. Penelope idly flipped through the huge stack of mail on her kitchen table. She hadn't touched it since before she went home for Carolyn's funeral, and her heart caught in her throat as she noticed an envelope with the Rossis return address, post marked October 26th, the day Carolyn died.

Forgetting about her beverage, Penelope sat on the worn old rug on the living room floor and gathered the cats close. Bagheera sniffed the letter experimentally - no doubt hoping it was food - and Casper walked across it. The others weren't interested, so Penelope took a deep breath and tore it open.

_Oct. 26__th__ - morning_

_Penelope, it's Gram. Just writing to let you know I love you with all my heart. What happened is not your fault. I'm sorry sweetie. It's just the way it had to be. I love you, and perhaps, someday, I can be an angel, watching over you and your brothers and sister. If I see your folks I will give them your love…and I'll tell them what a beautiful young woman you've grown into. I need to close. Love, Gram._

Penelope sniffled and Peaches drew closer, sensing something was amiss. Scooping up the cat, Penelope sobbed into her fur, and bless Peaches' little heart, she didn't struggle. She just stayed, true to her nature, letting Penelope grieve this terrible loss, and yet, imagining her grandmother - for she had been one, in every sense of the word - somewhere else with her parents, but not so far away that they couldn't see her and watch over her.

"I miss her," Penelope wept softly, her tears getting lost in Peaches' fur.

In response, the cat simply lay down, getting comfortable on Penelope's lap. Nuzzling and purring and being exactly what Penelope needed.

* * *

><p>"JJ, I need to talk to you," Emily called. It had taken some detective work, but finally, she caught JJ stopping back home on New Year's Eve.<p>

"I can't. I have a thing I need to go to," JJ said, brushing her off. While she was dressing better, Emily couldn't deny something was wrong. It was in JJ's eyes.

She took a deep breath, and sighed. Instead of the lecture she planned to give, Emily simply asked, "Are you all right?"

"I'm not dating Stan and I'm not partying like a clubber. I'm just going out. I think I'm entitled to have a little fun after the last couple months. I've been _perfect._ I haven't bugged you at all, right?" she asked, reminding Emily more of JJ's teenage self than a young adult. "I'll ask Aaron and Haley if they want to come, if that'll make you feel better. I can't get into trouble with 15-year-olds to watch. Oh. Or _Derek_…" JJ continued, lighting up at the idea of getting her big brother out of the house. "He could use some action."

"Not goin'…" Derek called, in the tone Emily had become familiar with. Realistically, they were lucky that Derek seemed to be the only one exhibiting signs of depression.

"Aaron? Haley?" JJ asked, as they walked through the kitchen, holding hands.

"Get real," Aaron called, in an uncharacteristic fashion. "Haley and actually have _lives_. We don't want to hang out with you."

"Be nice!" Haley quipped. "Thanks, JJ, but my parents are having a party and we already promised them we'd go. Can we take a rain check?"

"Hey." Emily interrupted, with a stern look at Aaron. "Lose the attitude."

"_I'll _go with you, JJ!" Spencer volunteered. "Are you going to Starbucks? Or any bookstores, by chance?" he asked, sidling up to her. "Because I'm desperate for new reading material…and a holiday beverage," he said, offering a beguiling smile that was decidedly less effective now, than it was when he was four.

"Sorry, Spencer," she apologized. "I was thinking of more…19-year-old things…" JJ hedged, unsure of how to explain to her kid brother that she planned on getting too drunk to remember the New Year, and hopefully be over the hangover by Penelope's birthday, the following day.

"I went to high school with 19-year-olds!" he said excitedly. "I'm very mature, and I can be so quiet, you'll hardly know I'm there."

Emily sighed. "Spencer, let's let JJ go. We can stay up 'til midnight and watch the ball drop in Time's Square," she bargained.

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Mom," he said, sounding more like a teenager than she ever wanted him to, "it's the same thing every year…"

* * *

><p>The night was a blur for JJ. She didn't know anybody here so it wasn't like she was lying when she said she wasn't going to go partying. She just bought a couple beers and hung out in the car. She sang a few rounds of <em>Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall<em>, and all of _Bohemian Rhapsody _before getting sick all over herself. She drunk-dialed Stan and professed her love, even though she stank and she knew he didn't love her anyway, and he'd tried to beat up Spencer.

"I miss you so much, JJ, and I'm so sorry about what I did to Spencer. He just made me so crazy, you know?" Stan asked.

"Yeah, I totally get it. I miss you, too. Do you think you can come back to town, or, I don't know… Maybe we could meet up somewhere?" JJ asked hopefully, slurring her words and not caring.

"You know, I'd love to, but I wouldn't be able to get out there until, maybe next weekend? I got work and shit."

"Just skip it," she whined. "Don't you care that I need you?"

"I totally get that, and I want to be there for you. I just gotta take care of some stuff first but then I'll come out and be with you, okay?"

It dawned on JJ then, the sounds she was hearing in the background on Stan's end of the call. Loud music. Laughter. A girl all over him, talking with a lisp and urging him to hang up the phone. Though it made JJ pissed, the beer helped take the edge off. How many times had Stan explained it to her? He couldn't be satisfied with just one woman. That would be like eating the same meal over and over again. No fun at all. And she wanted him to have fun, didn't she? He didn't even have to say it. So, JJ wrapped up the call. Stan promised to see her in a few days.

Suddenly, JJ was at a loss again.

All she wanted was to forget everything for just one night. Actually, she'd wanted that for a while now. And one night was never quite good enough. The past two months had been a similar rush of sights and sounds and passing scenery. She'd dropped out of school and was living at home. Every time her mom tried to talk to her, JJ blew her off. She didn't need lectures. She needed understanding. And no one could possibly understand her.

She pulled out onto the highway, from where she was parked in an empty parking lot. She was feeling grateful for her fake ID and her apparent invisibility. No one could see her and no one gave a crap about her. Sure that came with a lot of negatives, but there were positives, too. Like, JJ being able to do whatever the hell she wanted without anyone caring or getting in her way.

It was dark and snowy and awesome out, with a ton of bright stars in the sky. She leaned on the gas, grateful no one else was on the road at 3 AM. JJ didn't notice when the car started to drift. By the time she saw the tree, it was too late.

One minute she was driving, and the next, everything went black.

**A/N: Ahhhh, JJ! Noooo!**


	8. News

Emily woke with a start at 4:30 AM. It took some time to register that her phone was ringing. A terrible sinking feeling overtook her as she reached for the phone. In the split second before she picked up, Emily realized JJ hadn't come by the bedroom to say she got home.

She squinted, confused by the name on the display screen. Maybe Emily was wrong after all.

"Penelope? Are you all right?"

"Didn't you hear? Never mind. Some hospital employee from Reston called me," she said, breathless. "She said I was listed as an emergency contact for JJ. Emily, she was in an accident."

"Why didn't they call me?" Emily wondered, already out of bed and pulling jeans on.

"Apparently, she must still have you listed by your first name," Penelope confessed, her voice breaking. "I'm coming, okay? I'm coming home. I'll meet you at the hospital."

"Wait. Did they say anything about her condition? How is she?" Emily insisted.

"When I told them we were foster siblings at best, they said they couldn't release any information to me. They just said there was an accident and they were trying to locate next of kin."

"Okay. I'm leaving Derek in charge here," Emily passed along. "Call when you get here. I'm on my way to the hospital. Be safe. I love you," Emily said, and hung up.

There wasn't time for anything but essentials. Emily grabbed her phone, her purse and her keys and then shook Derek awake, hardly registering the fact that she was likely scaring him beyond reason, waking him in the middle of the night.

"I have to go," she told him succinctly. "JJ's been in an accident."

Derek was awake quickly, and reassured her that he had the boys and not to worry. "Call when you know something? Wait. Shouldn't we all be there? And I can't drive with my knee messed up like this…" Derek hedged, nervousness seeping into his tone.

"Penelope's on her way. She can drive you if it's necessary. I'm sorry, Derek, but I really have to go," Emily apologized. She sent a text to Aaron and Spencer, explaining where she was and that Derek was in charge.

It was after she sent them, that Emily noticed the icon in the corner of her screen that indicated missed calls. Since she was pulling out of the driveway she didn't check them, but on the road, she received a call from an unfamiliar number. It was a staff member at Reston Hospital.

"This is Emily Prentiss," she said, her tone clipped, as she gripped the steering wheel and willed the lights to change faster.

"Ms. Prentiss, your daughter, Jennifer, was just admitted here. She was the victim of a single-car accident. We need your permission to insert a device into Jennifer's head to monitor the pressure on her brain."

"Of course," Emily answered. "Whatever you need to do, you have my permission. I'm on the way now."

There had been no time for particulars. JJ's condition was obviously life threatening. Emily made deductions the best she could. Inter-cranial pressure meant a head injury. Emily wasn't a trained physician but she deduced that much. The assumption made her sick to her stomach. Traumatic brain injury was never something Emily knew to fear until right this instant. She worried that her kids would attach, adjust, belong, feel part of her family. Of course, she worried for their safety - of course, she'd been worried about JJ, but nothing had prepared her for this. Emily took a deep breath and prayed silently, hoping that it might still be heard despite all the confusion and stress she was feeling.

Emily arrived at Reston Hospital within forty-five minutes, and was directed to a waiting area. She was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. Instead, Emily paced. She called to see how things were at home. Tears came unexpectedly to her eyes as Emily realized that this was a moment she could have really used Carolyn at her side. Instead, she was here alone, and Dave was at home, without the slightest inkling that anything had happened.

When a neurosurgeon finally emerged and identified himself, Emily listened to him as if her life depended on it, but she couldn't make sense of the words. Key phrases jumped out at her: Traumatic brain injury. Coma. Time will tell. First twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

"How did it happen?" Emily asked. "The crash?"

"I'm sorry?"

"All I heard was that my daughter was in a single car accident. Was it the weather? Some other factors? What?"

"It appears your daughter had been drinking. Though not over the legal limit, there was alcohol in her system."

Emily sighed heavily, but couldn't let herself sit down. "Can I see her?"

"Of course."

In a daze, Emily followed another nurse to JJ's room in the Intensive Care Unit. It was dark and quiet, but for the beeping of several monitors. Tubes and wires snaked their way to various places on JJ's still body.

In this moment, Emily couldn't breathe. No matter what anyone told her, nothing could have adequately prepared her for the sight of her child motionless on a bed like this. Especially just two months after walking in after Carolyn's suicide.

Emily bit her lip, choking back tears. "Can I speak to her?" she asked the nurse who was like a constant companion.

"Of course. I'll give you a few moments, but she needs rest and quiet in order to heal."

Nodding, Emily stepped forward, willing herself to look at JJ's swollen face. "JJ… It's Mom. I'm here, okay? Even if you wake up and don't see me, I'll still be close by and I can be back soon, I promise. Honey, I love you. I'm not mad. I just want you to get better. I'm going to be here every step of the way. Penelope's coming home, and Derek, Aaron and Spencer are at home. They miss you, too, and we all want you to keep improving. Fight, JJ. I can't lose you, too…" Emily trailed off, trying to compose herself.

She forced herself to let go of JJ's hand. Forced herself to leave her daughter alone. Forced herself not to look back.

* * *

><p>Derek sighed as he heard a pounding on the door. A lot of luck he was having hoping Spencer and Aaron stayed asleep with all that racket going on. He needed time to figure out what the hell he was gonna say to them. He knew their mom sent them texts, but they'd have questions, and the fact was, Derek didn't have answers. It was all he could do to keep praying.<p>

He made his way to the door and glanced out the window beside it, surprised to see Penelope on the front steps already. He unlocked it, and she made her way inside, nearly crushing him in her embrace.

"I brought the cats…" she said, her voice breaking. "But I didn't have trailers for the horses, so they'll have to tough it out. Have you heard anything?"

"Nothing so far. You?" he asked, walking back to the couch. Pain shot through his knee. It had him thinking briefly of his own operation in a couple days. How would that go down now? With JJ in the hospital? Should he call it off and just be there with his mom and siblings?

"Penelope! You brought the cats? Oh, that's great. I'll bring them in!"

The sound of Spencer's voice made them both jump. Obviously, he hadn't checked his phone yet, but then again, Spencer never had been a huge fan of technology. He often left handwritten notes for their mother that she could barely read thanks to his terrible handwriting.

"I'll wake The President. We might as well tell them together," Penelope sighed. "Do you know she had me listed as an emergency contact, not Emily?" she asked, surprise showing on her pale, exhausted face.

"Doesn't surprise me," Derek said, shrugging. "She probably counted on you two living close and if not that then she definitely didn't want Mom contacted if she got busted for something illegal… God, I can't believe I'm talking like that about her. We don't even know if she's okay…"

"If _who's _okay?" Spencer asked, lugging in two kitten carriers - one full to bursting with that fat cat, Bagheera, who kept hissing, and the other with The Brown Kitten, who Derek secretly liked best of all Penelope's cats. He brought in the others two by two, and sat on the couch, cuddling Miss Kitty in his lap.

"You'd better hope Bagheera doesn't eat Sergio, or Mom's gonna make him leave," Aaron said, only half-joking. He appeared in sweatpants and a wrinkled tee shirt and flopped down on the couch.

"Mom's not here," Spencer observed. "Neither is JJ. What's going on?"

"JJ got in an accident early this morning," Derek said, sighing. It was best not to mess around with either Aaron or Spencer. They both knew when they were being lied to, and they didn't appreciate it. "Mom's at the hospital with her now."

Spencer's mouth dropped open, and Aaron just closed his eyes. Then, he was on his feet, and rushing back downstairs.

"Aaron!" Penelope called, trying in vain to get him back.

But the sharp slamming of his bedroom door was the only answer they received.

"Is JJ dead?" Spencer asked, a desperate edge to his voice. "Is she dying? Do they know?"

"We don't know anything yet," Penelope said, keeping her voice calm, even as it shook with emotion. "So, we're just going to wait, and not get hysterical."

"But she's our _sister_. How can we not be hysterical?" Spencer asked, clutching Miss Kitty so tightly it looked painful. By now, all the cats were roaming free. So, Derek snagged The Brown Kitten and held him a while. Peaches had disappeared as soon as she had been released. Cali was meowing loudly somewhere. Bagheera had lumbered a full two feet before getting tired and curling up in the middle of the living room. Casper was winding himself around Penelope, desperate for attention. It would have been funny, if not for how serious things might be with JJ.

"You think we should go over?" Derek asked, silently, with no more than a raised eyebrow in Penelope's direction. He knew if he voiced his question aloud, Spencer would jump on it and demand to go to the hospital immediately, and honestly, Derek wasn't sure it was the place for Spencer, or even Aaron. He knew he couldn't handle hospitals on his best day without feeling ready to pass out.

Penelope shook her head slightly.

"Hey! That's unfair! You guys are talking with your minds! Come on. I want to know what's going on with JJ! Please, can't we call or something? Derek, you're an adult and related. Can't you call and check on her status?" Spencer badgered.

"I think it's probably best if we wait for Mom to call us with what she knows," Derek decided, looking to Penelope for confirmation. He was relieved when she nodded. There was no way Derek would admit to being too chicken to call and check on his own sister's well-being.

"Okay, but you have to promise you'll tell me the truth," Spencer said, eyeing each of them intensely. "No secrets, right? We're a family."

"No secrets," Penelope echoed. "But we've got to stay calm. We don't know anything yet, so we've just got to stay positive. Try sending good thoughts out into the universe for JJ," she encouraged.

But they all fell silent when Derek's phone rang. Hesitantly, he picked it up.

"How is she?" he asked, not wasting any time.

"It's serious, Derek. She's in a coma. She looks fine, except for the head injury, but that's what they're most concerned about. I need you kids to take care of each other, okay? Promise me that," Emily said, sniffling.

The sound startled Derek. In all the years he'd known his mother, he'd never heard her cry. She was always strong. That alone was enough to convince him that JJ's situation was dangerous.

"We will. Penelope's here safe. She brought all the cats," he waited a minute. "Mom? I know this is bad timing and I don't care or anything, but I'm just wondering… I can cancel my surgery if you want…"

"No, Derek. Keep your appointment," Emily insisted. "Okay? I love you all."

"We love you, too," he said, hanging up.

Then, he looked at Penelope, Spencer, and Aaron - who had returned from his room - in turn. "Guys… It's not good… She's in a coma… Mom said we've gotta look out for each other."

"What happened to her?" Aaron asked, his arms crossed. He stood, braced in the doorway.

"She hurt her head pretty badly… She's in a coma…so I guess we just need to wait and see how she does," Derek said, swallowing.

He didn't add that he had no clue how they were going to do that, but they would figure it out. They had to.

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! Hopefully the chapter is worth it. Hope you all had a great weekend/Easter. Now, onto other things…**

**Thank you to whomever nominated me in the CM Favorite Fics of 2011 Awards! I really appreciate it, you guys. For those who don't know, I'm listed on the ballot for:**

- Best Overall Author

- Best Drabble (Close to the Vest)

- Best Oneshot (Scars)

- Best Casefic (Missing)

- Best Work In Progress (Seychelles)

- Best Drama (Left Behind)

- Best Drama (Losing Henry)

- Best Tragedy/Angst (The Batter's Box)

- Best Tragedy/Angst (You Have One New Message)

- Best Alternate Universe (Brave New Life)

- Best Femslash Romance - Other Pairings (Prentiss/OC in There Is Something You Don't Know)

- Best Friendship Fic (Prentiss/Reid in Blows and Wounds)

- Best Friendship Fic (Prentiss/JJ/Garcia in There Is Something You Don't Know)

- Best Friendship Fic (Prentiss/Garcia in You Have One New Message)

- Best Team Fic (Alaska)

- Best Team Fic (Charades)

- Best Portrayal of a Main Character (Derek Morgan in Close to the Vest)

- Best Portrayal of a Main Character (Derek Morgan in The Batter's Box)

- Best Portrayal of a Main Character (Spencer Reid in Lost in Translation)

**There are some amazing authors and stories nominated with me. Please go forth and read everyone's stories here at cmfavoritefics (dot) livejournal (dot) com and vote for whomever you feel is most deserving! (Don't forget to read the rules!) Voting ends April 26th. Feel free to PM me with any questions.**


	9. Progress

It was January 6th before there was Emily witnessed any change in JJ. By then, Derek's surgery and Penelope's 26th birthday had come and gone. The neurosurgeon had said the first twenty-four to forty-eight hours were critical. If she awoke within that window of time, it was a positive sign. Emily didn't know what it meant now that JJ had stayed unconscious for 120 hours, and was only conscious for moments at a time. She would open her eyes briefly and stare at Emily blankly. Then, JJ would drift back to sleep.

In desperation, Emily had called family friends in Vermont to help. Penelope had gone back to Pennsylvania yesterday - her horses only had enough food and water to last a few days - and she wasn't able to cope with tragedy in large doses. Spencer and Aaron were at home, and Derek was released the same day. He'd sent Emily a picture of the scar on his leg. It was long, vivid and red, but seemed healthy. With Derek home, Emily knew they'd need some help. She absolutely would not rely on Aaron and Spencer to look after each other and Derek. This was why she'd called Nathaniel and Cary, longtime friends, whom she could always count on in a crisis.

It hurt her heart to think that, had this been a few months ago, she would have called Dave and Carolyn. How they would have been available, without hesitation. Now, though, she had a daughter clinging to life, and a son recovering from surgery. Not to mention Spencer who was still dealing with the aftermath of being so viciously bullied just months earlier. Only Aaron appeared to be holding it together, but Emily had known him long enough to realize that likely wasn't true.

Thankfully, Cary and Nathaniel showed up as quickly as they could, leaving their son, Matthew in the care of friends. Their presence was such a relief. One of them was always with her at the hospital, while the other alternated between home and Dave's.

Lately, though, nothing could pull Emily away from JJ's room. She sat there constantly, in case JJ might wake for a second. Emily didn't want to miss anything. She talked until she was hoarse and kept notes on JJ's progress. Emily let JJ know what was going on at home and that Nathaniel and Cary were visiting. She hung pictures of the family everywhere, and get well cards covered large bulletin board.

So far, JJ hadn't said a word and Emily had no way of knowing what she knew or what she may have lost. All Emily knew was that she had to keep talking to JJ. She had to keep reminding her of everything that was going on. So that JJ could fight her way back.

What no one told Emily - what she never really thought about - was the fact that emerging from a coma was a process. JJ wasn't just going to wake up, recognize her, and start talking. It would happen agonizingly slowly. If she regained consciousness - which, thank God, she had - it would take time before she could remain awake for longer periods. She might not recognize people she loved. JJ might not even be able to remember herself. Or have all the skills she used to possess.

Of course, Emily prayed she would. Emily hoped for a full recovery. So that something could be okay for her family. But doctors and nurses cautioned her. Recovery from traumatic brain injury was a long process, marked by unexpected progress and crushing setbacks. Over the last five days, Emily had become adept at subsisting on vending machine food and waiting room coffee, because the ICU waiting room was closer than the hospital cafeteria. She picked up invaluable advice from Nathaniel, whose friend - a thirty-something woman named Jessica Walker - had survived a TBI thirteen years ago, the result of a brutal shooting on a college campus the year Spencer was born.

Nathaniel had yet to leave, and was constantly passing on encouraging bits of information from Jessica's recovery. Emily wished she could speak with her firsthand, but she was in Vermont, and Emily was here, and feeling very much alone.

"Do you want to…I don't know…talk to her?" Nathaniel asked, reading Emily like a book. "She's home right now. I've been texting her. She knows about JJ. I hope you don't mind," he explained in his typical shy manner.

"No, of course, I don't mind. I'd love to speak with her if she's available. I just wouldn't want to impose," she rambled, lack of sleep causing her to be entirely too honest, when likely, this young woman probably didn't want to relive the hardest time in her life.

Emily didn't get a chance to finish speaking, before Nathaniel had his friend on the line and was pressing his phone into her hand. "It's not an imposition," he reassured, offering to take her phone and call home to see how Cary was doing with Spencer, Aaron and Derek.

* * *

><p>"Hello?" a sweet, warm voice greeted, from entirely too far away.<p>

"Hello…" Emily managed, not entirely sure what she might say now that she had Jessica on the line. What did she want from this girl who had been where JJ was now? "I'm sorry…I wasn't expecting Nathaniel to call you like this…"

"It's no problem," Jessica reassured, sounding relaxed.

"It's just… My daughter is… And Nathaniel mentioned that…you had been through a similar recovery…I apologize if this is too personal. I haven't slept in four days…" Emily attempted to explain.

"Yeah, Nathaniel told me…" she said, sounding completely sympathetic. "I don't know how much Nate told you about me…but I don't really sugar-coat things… It wasn't easy. It took a long time. And even all these years later, I have things I struggle with…things I lost then that I can't get back…not entirely. But your situation right now? It's not hopeless…"

"Jessica… Can I ask you something?" Emily managed, choking back tears.

"Of course…and call me Jess…"

"Jess… Could you…_hear_ when people talked to you? Your family or your friends? While you were waking up?"

It was quiet a moment while Jess thought. "Not at first, no. I think it was a while before words started making sense. But keep talking to JJ…" There was a pause and then Jess continued. "I didn't actually have any family when I was going through my recovery. Just my friends and my son, who was too little to visit until later on. It'll mean a lot to JJ that you're there. Family's everything. Real or created, you know?"

"Yes, I do know," Emily confirmed, feeling slightly better somehow.

"Can I give you my number so we can stay in touch? And then I've got Matthew here and he wants to say hello…" Jess confessed, a smile in her voice.

"_You've _got Matthew_…_" Emily mused. "Nathaniel didn't mention that. And yes, I'd love your number. Thank you."

"Call anytime. I mean it. I've been where JJ is. It's gonna be hard, and she'll be changed. But sometimes a new normal isn't all bad…" Jess encouraged softly. Then she passed the phone along to Matthew, who was full of questions about JJ and suggestions for how to make her more comfortable.

Talking to Jess and Matthew grounded Emily. She, like Jess, didn't have biological family, but she had family, nonetheless. And they _were_ everything. She took a deep breath, returning Nathaniel's phone to him and went back to sit with JJ.

* * *

><p>Cary sat quietly, unsure of what to do. Spencer, Aaron, and especially Derek, were past the point of needing someone to take care of them in the more concrete ways that Cary was used to. Derek categorically refused anything Cary tried to do to help. Finally, he resorted to cooking, which, Cary knew from experience, people had a hard time turning away. He looked through Emily's cupboards, found ingredients for cupcakes, and set to work. Making dinner was a little presumptuous so Cary settled on dessert. He focused, whipping up a recipe he created by the seat of his pants.<p>

Spencer wandered through the kitchen at one point and eyed Cary suspiciously. "Cupcakes?" he scoffed. "We're not _children_."

"Who said you need to be a kid to eat cupcakes?" Cary asked lightly.

"No one. I'm just saying, they won't make us feel any better about the situation," Spencer sulked.

"I hear JJ's waking up," Cary offered cautiously. "_That's _good news."

"It is, but it's not. She's got a long way to go. And anything could still go wrong," he pointed out, sitting down at the table and biting his lip.

"That's true, but today, she's doing a lot better than she was yesterday," Cary pointed out.

"You're such an optimist," Spencer sighed. "I envy that."

Cary smiled, and stuck a batch of strawberry cupcakes in to bake. He could hardly wait to whip up his homemade butter cream frosting. He hoped that treats might lift the mood around here, even if they couldn't fix everything.

"How's Derek?" Cary wondered.

"He said he doesn't need anything and to leave him alone. He's just being stubborn."

"You want to help me take some of these over to Dave's when they're done?" Cary asked, unsure of what to do when a twelve-year-old was hanging around, obviously in need of attention, or validation, or something. Well, he knew what an average twelve-year-old needed, but Spencer wasn't average.

"I'm not allowed," Spencer answered succinctly. "Mom said I wasn't supposed to go over there until further notice."

"Well, maybe we can ask Aaron if he wants to make a delivery? What's he up to?" Cary asked, nonchalantly.

"He's on the phone with Haley. His girlfriend," Spencer supplied as if this were valuable information. "She's much more appropriate for Aaron than Stan is for JJ. I hope when she wakes up, she realizes that."

* * *

><p>"Haley, I have to tell you something," Aaron confessed in a whisper.<p>

"About JJ?" Haley asked, her voice worried.

No, it's not about JJ. I found something, okay? At Dave's. And I can't stop thinking about it. I can't tell Mom about it and I can't talk to Dave about it. Everybody's got all this stuff to deal with," he explained, sounding mildly frustrated.

"What did you find?" Haley asked, clearly wary, and clearly interested.

"Apparently, Dave's been keeping tabs on my biological parents…" Aaron said softly, his tone betraying nothing. "I was cleaning his house after Carolyn…and I just found out by accident. There were these papers Official papers. I don't know where he got them, but the papers… They said my mom and dad had another kid after me. A son. He's six. They must have had him after they got out of jail. They moved to New York and just…had him."

"Is he okay?" Haley asked. Aaron knew where her mind must have instantly gone. His parents were horribly abusive when Aaron was in their custody as a child. He'd come to Emily with a broken arm and was haunted by memories of the unspeakable things they'd done to him. How they'd starved him.

"I don't know. I guess. Haley, that's not the point. The point is, they got rid of me and they kept him. From what I could see, he's perfectly fine. And I just…" he trailed off, his voice going softer. "I don't know why they can take care of him, but they wouldn't take care of me…"

"Because they suck," Haley answered quickly. "You're amazing and they lost out on knowing you and being your parents. They didn't know how to treat you, so they didn't deserve to have you."

"But they _did_ know. They controlled it when other people were around. They never hurt me if there was an audience. And obviously they're not hurting this other kid, or he'd be out of their custody. Right?" he asked, sounding unsure for the first time.

"I'm not really sure how that stuff works," Haley admitted. "It might be more complicated now that they're outside state lines…"

"But they _kept_ him. They're _treating him_ well," Aaron insisted softly, pain in his voice. "And they treated me like nothing…like an animal…"

Haley was silent. This was the most Aaron had ever shared about his past and she wasn't about to push. "Do you want me to come over?" she asked. "If you need me, I can be there. Or I can stay here and we can just talk?"

"Can I come to you instead?" he asked tentatively.

"Of course," Haley said, blinking tears from her eyes, grateful that he'd reached out to her. "Come over whenever. I'll be up. My parents won't care."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aaron hung up. Finally, he had a little hope.

**A/N: Just a reminder that Nathaniel and Cary Barrett-Mackey and also Jess Walker, and their storyline belong to me. So sorry it's been ages since an update. This is a really tough story to write, so sometimes it takes a while to be able to get back into the headspace to write it. But it is continuing and I continue to appreciate each and every one of you who takes the time to read, review, alert, favorite, etc. Also, the Criminal Minds Favorite Fic Awards were announced at the beginning of the month and I placed a bunch! THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who voted for me! I placed in the following categories (see stories in parenthesis):**

**2011 Criminal Minds Favorite Fic Awards:**

**1st Place** Best Team Fic (Alaska)

**1st Place** Best Drabble (Close to the Vest)

**1st Place tie** Best Friendship Fic (You Have One New Message)

**1st Place tie** Best Portrayal of a Main Character - Derek Morgan (The Batter's Box)

**2nd Place** Best Drama (Losing Henry)

**2nd Place** Best Casefic (Missing)

**2nd Place** Best Portrayal of a Main Character - Derek Morgan (Close to the Vest)

**2nd Place** Best Portrayal of a Main Character - Spencer Reid (Lost in Translation)

**2nd Place** Best Femslash Romance - Other Pairings (There Is Something You Don't Know)

**2nd Place tie** Best Oneshot (Scars)

**3rd Place tie** Best Drama (Left Behind)

**3rd Place tie** Best Author Overall


	10. Hurt

JJ woke up slowly.

For a while, she didn't know what was going on. She didn't know where she was, or who she was. All she knew for sure was that it was dark, and she was confused. Whenever she tried to speak, nothing came out. The only thing she could do was cry. Then, she would know for sure she wasn't alone, because a gentle hand would touch her face, and a soft voice would reassure her. She didn't recognize it at first, but she liked hearing it.

It took time - so much time - to be able to organize her thoughts. To be able to answer the voice that kept talking to her. Everything else was getting through to JJ, too, other voices from farther away. Strange noises and smells and the constant sound of people laughing and talking.

"Here, let's mute this," the familiar voice said. "JJ. Honey, can you open your eyes?"

She concentrated. Her body felt heavy and it wouldn't obey her right away. Even this took time. When JJ finally did open her eyes, everything was too bright. She couldn't make out the face in front of her. Everything was too blurry. Exhausted, her eyes started to fall closed again.

"No, honey, come on. Stay awake, okay?"

Suddenly the voice is very close - so close that JJ can't ignore it - and she squints against the brightness again.

"What's my name? Do you know who I am?"

This was so tiring and JJ was dizzy from trying to focus. There was something that tried to catch at the edges of JJ's memory, but every time she tried to follow the thread, it disappeared.

"No," she sighed. "Where's…Janet…" The question was halting, and JJ wasn't even sure she said it out loud. Worn out from the effort, JJ's eyes fell closed, and she slept.

* * *

><p>Emily heart simultaneously leapt and sank. She had been told over and over that recovery from a brain injury was filled with highs and lows, but she hadn't expected them to come so simultaneously. JJ didn't remember her. But, she remembered Janet - her biological sister, whom JJ had lost almost ten years earlier to suicide - and she technically had answered the question appropriately.<p>

Three and a half weeks after her first signs of waking, JJ had finally spoken. It had been a long road to get this far, littered by complications and doubts. The last month had been terrifying. JJ's forward momentum looked more like regression. With wakefulness came thrashing, kicking and pulling - and until today - not a single intelligible word.

Derek's recovery was progressing. Penelope was still gone. Emily still rarely got home to see Aaron and Spencer because all of her time was spent by JJ's side. Days like this, Emily was glad she made that choice.

JJ still had so far to go, but she had made so much progress lately. Still, it was easy to focus on the things that were a struggle. Her flat affect, the slow pace of her speech, the fact that she could not seem to stay awake longer than a few seconds without needing a rest.

Emily thought about calling the other kids, but knew that they were bound to be curious about what exactly JJ had said - and chances were that if JJ could not remember Emily, she wouldn't remember her brothers or Penelope either. Emily thought of calling Dave, but he was still reeling from Carolyn's loss months earlier. Not for the first time, Emily found herself completely alone. She _had _family, but they were scattered everywhere. Even Nathaniel and Cary had needed to return to Vermont.

Making sure JJ was resting comfortably, Emily stepped out of the room for the first time in days. She rode the elevator to the main floor and walked just outside the hospital. For the first time in years, she withdrew a cigarette from her pocket and lit up. That, and the lighter, ironically, had been among JJ's possessions when she was pulled from the car. Maybe, it was a way for Emily to calm her nerves. And maybe, it was a way to feel close to a daughter who didn't know her anymore.

Emily thought about Nathaniel's friend, Jess. Felt guilty for even considering calling her before any of her children, or Dave. But she just couldn't break this to them. She took a deep breath and dialed. Hoping that what Jess said was true. That Emily really could call anytime.

"Hey, Emily. How's JJ?" Jess said, picking up after just one ring.

"Awake more and more," she managed, her voice breaking. She breathed out a puff of smoke. "She spoke to me."

"You don't sound happy…" Jess observed carefully.

"That's because she didn't _know_ me," Emily insisted, her voice heavy with emotion. She blinked back tears. JJ needed her to be strong. "I asked if she knew who I was and there was this long pause. Then she said no, and asked about her older sister. Her biological sister, who she hasn't seen in something like ten years."

"Hmm…" Jess hummed noncommittally.

"What? What does that mean?!" Emily pressed, feeling sleep-deprived and crazy.

"I was just thinking…that my first word…according to my friends…was my son's name. So, it kind of makes sense that she would ask for her sister."

"My daughter doesn't know who I am, and you're telling me that's normal," Emily snapped.

"Listen, Emily. I'm not trying to hurt your feelings, but remember who you're talking to. I've been where _JJ _is, not where _you_ are. I can try to be sympathetic, but honestly, it will probably only reach so far, because as out of sorts as you feel right now, I know JJ is feeling at least ten times more confused."

"I'm sorry," Emily managed, trying to keep her temper in check. "As prepared as I felt for her to wake up, none of my mental scenarios included her not knowing who I was…"

"It's the injury. It's not personal, okay? The best thing you can do is surround her with familiar things and people, and talk to her about what's been going on so she can start making sense of her world again. For what it's worth, the fact that she's having meaningful conversations with you is awesome."

"What should I tell her about her sister?" Emily wondered, though Jess knew nothing about her kids' backgrounds, except that they were adopted as older kids.

"The truth?" Jess suggested, "But only as much of it as you think she can handle. Waking up is really overwhelming. If you can, try to reassure her. And as hard as it'll be for you, remind her of who you are. Tell her about yourself. She'll be changed by this, but so will you," Jess said gently. "You might as well start getting to know each other now."

"Thanks, Jess." Emily said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Anytime. Sorry if I was kind of a hard-ass. Call Nathaniel if you want a sympathetic ear, though. He's been exactly where you are."

* * *

><p>Before reentering the hospital, Emily called the kids. She took the advice Jess had given regarding JJ and told them as much as she thought they could handle. With Penelope and Derek, she shared everything. With Aaron and Spencer, she only said that JJ had talked to her and made sense, which was a great sign.<p>

Then, Emily took a deep breath, and went back up to ICU to sit with JJ, and prepare herself to get to know her daughter all over again.

* * *

><p>Penelope couldn't get past it. She knew JJ was regaining consciousness and that was great. But she just couldn't reconcile the fact that her sister drove drunk and crashed her car. Especially when it was a drunk driver that took Penelope's parents away from <em>her<em> before she was ready.

When it all came down to it, that was why Penelope couldn't be in Virginia. That was why she had to be states away during this crisis. Because JJ wouldn't benefit from Penelope's anger. From the sound of things, JJ didn't even remember what happened to her, so it wouldn't be fair to blame her for it. Would it?

So, instead of being there, Penelope closed herself off from everyone but the most necessary. Her animals. Her little brothers, who were at home, being looked in on occasionally by Dave. She called them often. Video chatted with them. Spencer was spending days at a time in his pajamas going to school online, because that was what the commercials on TV advised. She rarely spoke to Aaron, who seemed to be constantly in a mood.

But that suited Penelope just fine.

JJ clearly wasn't. Carolyn was gone.

So, why should any of them be okay?

* * *

><p>The next few days were a blur for JJ, but slowly, pieces started making sense. Slowly, she started understanding more than just part of what people said to her. The day she saw a face she recognized, JJ felt a burst of energy. She tried to say his name, but as usual, it came all wrong. Hoarse, and it was the wrong word.<p>

"Hurt…"

"You're hurt?" he asked. JJ couldn't read his face.

"No…"

"No, you're _not hurt_?" he questioned. It confused her.

Shakily, she extended a hand. He took it. That wasn't what she'd meant, and JJ tried to pull away.

"No…" she repeated impatiently. "You're hurt_,_" she said, trying to stress the words.

"This?" he glanced down and then smiled. "This is fine. I'm okay. It doesn't hurt much."

"Okay…"

"JJ… What's my name?" he wanted to know.

It was getting harder to stay awake, but she forced herself to. Forced herself to say the name that's been stuck in her head since she first saw him. "My brother…" she whispered.

"Yeah, _I am_ your brother," he sounded like there was light all around him. "Can you remember my name?" he pressed.

"Derek," she said quietly.

"That's right. You go back to sleep for a while, all right?"

"Janet…" she asked, but it didn't sound like a question.

"Janet's not here."

"Later…" JJ questioned.

"Later, what?"

"I'll see…her later…" JJ managed before she drifted off.

"Yeah, you'll see her later," Derek managed, his voice thick.

* * *

><p>There were some advantages to going through knee rehab at the same time as JJ's ordeal. Derek recovered at the same hospital, and when he was done with rehab there, he'd often go up to see JJ, to give their mom a break from keeping watch. He was glad she had given Derek a heads up about what to expect, and what to say, when JJ woke up now. She seemed to have her sister on her mind a lot, and not to have realized that she was long dead. Derek thought long and hard about that. The last thing he wanted was for JJ to re-experience that grief before she was ready. And she hadn't even asked about Carolyn. He was glad that the doctors had been so firm on the idea of not overwhelming JJ with too much too soon. When she asked the question, they should answer her, but Derek dreaded that day.<p>

Honestly, when he was around JJ, he forgot all about his knee, and football and his own pain. JJ's was so much more intense, and she seemed to be coping much better than he had been. Derek drew comfort and strength from her. To him, she wasn't so different now as she had been years ago when they first met. She'd always been determined. She'd always been compassionate. She'd always been fierce in her keeping of those around her. Sure, sometimes it meant bad judgments like Stan. But there were also good ones, like her roommate, Jordan, who still called every day to check up on JJ. Stan had yet to call once. That was just fine with him.

Derek managed to hook his crutch around the leg of a chair and pull it forward so he could sit down. JJ, who hadn't been able to stand him since they'd both come back under the same roof, had fallen asleep holding his hand.

**A/N: Thank you so much to all of you who have read and reviewed this story in my long absence! I will try my hardest not to go this long without an update. I think it will be easier now that things have started to become more cohesive for the family and not so up in the air. If you have questions or comments, feel free to let me know! Also, if you love the What Makes a Family universe, be sure to check out What Unites a Family (a new part 2 of the series), which should be listed just underneath this in my stories, currently. Thanks again for being so patient with me! Now, who is excited that JJ's waking up? Me, too! **


	11. Taken

Spencer always had found his pajamas quite comfortable. Ever since he could remember, it had been an altogether enjoyable experience to wear them all day long and go about his day. When he was young, and lived with his mother, the literature professor, they had spent every day that way. It was only when he came to his mom's - to Emily's - that he learned about the importance of getting dressed every day. But now his mom was at the hospital with JJ and Spencer didn't feel like adhering to rules that weren't enforced. Not when his life was falling apart like this.

Carolyn was gone. JJ was likely irreparably damaged. Penelope was back home, and thought that calling was enough to let him and Aaron know she cared. Well, it wasn't. If they were family, then they needed each other. Especially in difficult times. But Penelope hadn't been there. Neither had their mom, even though she had a good reason to be away. Derek was distant, and focused on his own recovery and JJ, spending every day at the hospital. Dave came over every day, and did his best. But it had only been three months since Carolyn died, and he was still very much in the grieving process. He cooked them food and told them when to go to bed, but other than that, he watched the History Channel or Bonanza and ignored them.

So, Spencer could get by with letting his online schoolwork pile up. No one was checking to make sure it was done. It wasn't as if he had to look a teacher in the eye, explain his family's circumstances, and ask for an extension. Most of the time, Spencer looked up information on the computer about traumatic brain injuries and watched videos of people's recoveries. They made him feel connected to JJ. They just made Aaron angry.

"Why do you have to keep watching those stupid movies?!" he exclaimed, trying to close Spencer's laptop. "What would you think if Mom took videos of JJ's progress and some kid across the country watched them just out of curiosity?"

Spencer considered this. "I'd say they asked for it. If they didn't want people to see their loved one's progress, they shouldn't have posted the video publicly."

"Really? What did you think when those morons filmed you?" Aaron asked evenly. "Were _you_ okay with them putting up _your_ worst moments so the world could see it?"

This time, Spencer didn't consider a single thing. He simply reacted, rising from the chair, and plowing into his brother. The impact brought them both to the floor, and Spencer pounded Aaron. Tears blurred his eyes as Spencer tried to focus on Aaron's face. He couldn't think. All he could do was hit repeatedly.

It didn't occur to him that Aaron never fought back. Never protected himself from a single blow.

"What the hell is going on?!" Dave asked, rushing in and pulling Spencer up by the back of the bathrobe, and holding him back.

"Take back what you said!" Spencer screamed.

Aaron wiped his bloody nose with the back of his hand. "I don't have anything to apologize for. All I did is ask a question."

"An _intentionally hurtful question!_ I hate you! I wish I did what I planned on doing!"

* * *

><p>"Spencer Reid Prentiss," Emily said calmly and evenly, though her blood was up and her nerves were fried.<p>

Derek had taken over staying with JJ for a few hours so that she could return home and check in on the boys. Maybe, bring them back with her. The last thing she expected was to see Dave pulling Spencer off Aaron, and Aaron with blood flowing freely from his nose. She suspected bruises would form on his face. Emily hurried to get him ice and a towel and then sat both boys down at the kitchen table. Dave stayed, in case she needed reinforcements.

"Now, what is going on around here?" she demanded lowly. "You know the rules in this house perfectly well, don't you?" Emily asked Spencer rhetorically.

"Do your best! No hurting anyone else and no hurting yourself! But _he _hurt _me_ first! He _purposely _and _maliciously_ said something that he _knew _would make me feel…" Spencer trailed off.

Emily sighed. Eight years here, and Spencer still got caught on emotions. Still wasn't always able to put his finger on exactly what he was feeling. "We don't solve our problems with violence," Emily maintained. "It doesn't matter what was said to you, or how hurt you were. You made the choice to react and hurt your brother."

"Because _he_ hurt _me_!" Spencer insisted, his voice climbing with each word.

"Yeah, it _was_ on purpose, okay?" Aaron admitted. "But it wasn't to be mean. It was to make you think about what you were doing…"

Emily turned concerned eyes toward Spencer. "What were you doing?"

"Watching videos of people waking up from comas," Aaron interjected, his shoulders hunched. "I asked him what he would think if you filmed JJ's progress and someone else watched it just because they were curious. He said he thought whoever put up the video publicly was asking for it to be viewed. So, I asked him what about what those kids did to him? How did it feel when it was him being filmed and it was being watched by a bunch of people?" he admitted softly.

A rhythmic noise started then, and Emily glanced over, in time to see Spencer bringing his head back against his chair behind him forcefully. Tears fell down his face.

"I should just kill myself," Spencer sobbed.

Dave's chair scraped the floor as he scooted it back and left abruptly, walking out onto the deck and slamming the door behind himself.

The noise shocked Spencer long enough for Emily to catch his attention. "Stand up," she demanded, taking his chair and moving it across the room. Her stomach was cramping and she felt suddenly nauseous. Images of Carolyn were in her mind, as vivid as yesterday, but there was no one to look to for backup when Emily herself was enduring Post-Traumatic Stress like symptoms.

* * *

><p>Aaron just stared, his eyes dark and brooding. It wasn't what he had meant at all. He just wanted Spencer to think outside himself for two seconds. To think about the families of those people, and the people themselves, who might not be too crazy about having their lives on display for everyone. He hadn't meant that Spencer should… He had no idea that his brother had been thinking of… It made him lightheaded just thinking about it. He looked at Spencer, standing there, crying.<p>

Their mom was busy giving Spencer complicated directions to follow, after telling him that he wasn't to think about anything else except completing them. Hopping on one foot and spelling all the US presidents names backward. It was something that had worked when he'd gotten overwhelmed in the past. Something to occupy his mind and body so he could look at a situation more clearly. Then, she turned her attention on Aaron, who shrank in his seat. He felt six again. This would be awful.

"Are you okay?" she asked in a measured tone of voice.

"I'm fine."

"Why would you bring that up with him, Aaron?" she asked lowly. "You know how much that hurt him."

"I'm sorry, ma'am…" he answered. It was a near decade-old habit. Politeness borne out of self-preservation.

"No," his mom said gently, but firmly. "No 'I'm sorry, ma'am.' I want you to answer me, Aaron. Why would you hurt your brother like that?" she insisted.

"That's _why _I brought it up," Aaron said tentatively. "Not because it would hurt him but because I knew it made him feel something and I wanted him to think about how other people felt for once."

"About how _you_ felt?" she pressed. Aaron glanced at her, and noticed she looked a little pale.

"Yes, ma'am…." he admitted softly.

"How _did you _feel?" Emily pressed.

"Like what he was doing was wrong!" Aaron exploded, but somehow kept his voice at a whisper. "Watching someone's private hell isn't right! And you weren't here to tell him not to, so I did. He was acting all smug about it, so I wanted to put it in terms he would understand."

Spencer, by now, was finished with his spelling the presidents backward assignment. He was standing still, taking deep breaths. Aaron could tell he just barely had control over himself.

"I didn't want to hurt your feelings," Aaron said, turning to Spencer. "But I wanted you to think about how you felt when people saw you at your absolute worst. No one should have seen that. Because it shouldn't have happened to you. That wasn't right," Aaron insisted, still wiping blood from his nose. "How angry you are at me? That's how angry I am when I come in here every day and watch you watching somebody else suffer…"

"I just want to know how JJ is… I want to be prepared…" Spencer offered weakly.

"So, come back with me and see her. But you apologize to your brother, and apologize to Dave first. Aaron, you, too. Apologize for hurting your brother."

"I'm sorry for hurting your feelings," Aaron mumbled.

"I'm sorry for hitting you," Spencer returned, equally uncomfortable.

* * *

><p>"I don't want those words to ever come out of your mouth like that again," Emily maintained, holding Spencer by the shoulders. "About killing yourself. I understand you're feeling frustrated and hopeless and depressed. You're free to say any of those things. But when you say you want to kill yourself, it hurts all of us. It makes all of us so afraid, because we don't want to lose you." Emily explained, letting the emotion rise to the surface.<p>

"Why are you crying?" Spencer asked.

"Because, to me, and to Dave, those aren't just words anymore. Honey, we already dealt with finding one person in my family after they took themselves away from us. We don't want to think about it ever happening again."

Spencer stared at her seriously.

"Do you understand?" Emily asked.

"Yes," he said, looking far too wise for twelve.

"Now, go take a shower and put some clothes on. I'll wait here for you." Emily maintained before turning her attention to Aaron. "Would you like to come?"

"No, thank you, ma'am," he answered, automatically.

"Aaron. Look at me. I'm not upset with you. You're not in trouble." Emily kept her tone gentle and reached for the cloth he was holding to his face.

He flinched hard away from her.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I just need to look at it, all right? I want to be sure you don't need stitches."

He sat, still as a statue, while she stared at his face. He carefully avoided her gaze.

"All right. It doesn't look too bad. Are you going to be okay here with Dave?" she asked.

Silently, he nodded.

"Spencer shouldn't have hurt you," she told him seriously. "I'm sorry this happened to you."

"He's just a kid. I can take it. I've taken worse," Aaron told her, almost defiantly.

"Yes, but the point is, you shouldn't have to."

Then, Emily got on the phone with both boys' therapists. For Spencer, she scheduled an appointment immediately and for Aaron at earliest convenience. She could bring Spencer on the way to the hospital and wait there while he dealt with what was causing him so much pain. She couldn't let it go another minute.

* * *

><p>Spencer emerged from the shower feeling refreshed and ready to go. Sometimes he forgot about the rejuvenating qualities a shower could possess. However, he remembered them now. Before they left, Spencer stopped out on the deck to talk to Dave.<p>

He stood stiffly, staring out at the yard.

"I'm sorry," Spencer said quietly. "I'm not really going to do that."

"I hope not," Dave answered. His voice was thick and heavy.

Spencer didn't think, he just wrapped his arms around Dave's waist and held on.

**A/N: Ooh, so much tension between the boys, isn't there? This is actually only about half of what I had planned on writing, but I thought I'd break it into two chapters. Thanks to all of you for you who are reading and reviewing! Shannon, I hope this is a better length of time between updates! I'm doing my best to be more consistent. Also sugarhigh9394 was the 100th reviewer and will be getting a fic of their choice very soon! **


	12. Kept

Spencer spent the long ride to the hospital listening to his mom describing JJ's brain using the fascinating metaphor of a filing cabinet.

"Our brains are like filing cabinets," she explained as she concentrated on driving. "In JJ's brain, it's as if the car accident jarred the files loose and they're all scattered. Some of them are getting back in the right place. But some of them will be put in upside down, or wrinkled or torn. And unfortunately, some of her files might be gone for good."

"Does her neurosurgeon know which files are lost?" Spencer asked, curious.

"That's not something anyone knows right now. It's going to take time and a lot of rehabilitation, and work on JJ's part. Now, I need you to listen to me very carefully. JJ isn't going to be the same as you remember. Her hair has been shaved. She has scars on her head and lots of tubes attached to her. She's awake, but she might be confused a lot of the time." She eyed Spencer for an extra beat. "She might say some things that make you angry. She might have a hard time remembering your name. You absolutely, under no circumstances, are allowed to lose your temper with her."

"I wouldn't," he maintained. "It's a hospital. There are rules."

"There are rules in the house, too, Spencer. And you broke a big one today by hitting your brother. You _absolutely _will not raise a hand to anyone else in this family, especially not JJ-"

"_Mom_, I _know_!"

"I'm not finished. You are officially on restriction. Your laptop is going to be locked down except for schoolwork. You're going to get back on track. That means, getting up in the morning, making your bed, taking a shower, and getting dressed. That means doing your chores. All those things and your schoolwork come before any kind of optional activity. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand. I'm not going to hurt JJ and I'll do better," Spencer sighed, even though he was not happy about any of these newest developments. If he got a tone with her, he knew he would lose out of even more privileges.

"Okay. Do you have any questions about the hospital?" his mom asked.

"I'm just wondering about JJ…but I don't know what to ask…" Spencer admitted. "If JJ isn't the same, then how will I know what to say to her?"

"Well, my advice would be, stay calm. You can say hello, tell her you love her. If she asks questions, you can answer them, but keep your answers short and to the point. She's been asking about her sister, Janet, though. If she does again, I want you to let me handle that." His mom paused. "How are you doing? Is this overwhelming for you?"

"No, I'm just listening," Spencer responded. Actually, he was eager to have another challenge to embrace. Curious about what was to come.

"I think, if you're willing, you could actually really help her. She's trying to regain the basics. Speaking in a full sentence. Identifying what's around her."

"I can _definitely _help," Spencer insisted, his face brightening. This would be great. Thinking about what he could do for someone else, instead of always focusing on all the ways he wished his own life were different.

* * *

><p>JJ was exhausted and her head ached constantly. It took concentration just to keep a single thought in her head, and sometimes, when she went to say it out loud, something else entirely would take its place, which frustrated the hell out of her. She liked having Derek there, especially when other people she didn't know kept coming in and trying to have her do things. It was the worst feeling in the world to try, and realize that she couldn't do something anymore.<p>

They said she was in an accident, but JJ didn't remember anything about it. The last thing she remembered was her mom wanting to talk to her, and Spencer wanting to come somewhere with her, but she told him no. Where _had_ she been going? What had been so important? She couldn't remember. She missed her family. She wanted to see Janet but no one would let her.

She tossed and turned in bed, angry that she couldn't find a comfortable position. She had to get used to going to different therapies every day. She worked on speech and physical and occupational stuff. It would have been humiliating, but JJ was too tired to care. She needed to get rest while she could, because more therapy was probably right around the corner.

Derek was there, and he kept a hold of her hand, because she wouldn't let him go. Without him, she felt completely lost in this weird place. But it was like he said, as long as she had family, she'd be okay.

Family, now, was so confusing, though. It made her nervous for reasons she couldn't name. She dreamed of strange things. Of faces. Of old pain. When she was awake, it was hard to stop kicking. A mental picture of her dad came to mind. Her dad, pissed off at her, and taking off his belt. JJ kicked, and whimpered, feeling small.

"Hey, it's okay…" Derek said from next to her. "Just relax, all right?" he encouraged.

"My dad…" JJ managed, wincing.

"Your dad's not here. You're with me. You're safe. Open your eyes, and see," he coaxed.

So, JJ squinted at him. Just Derek. Not her dad. Thank God. She didn't think she could deal with her dad. Or his belt. "Derek… Will you…stay…"

"Of course. You can't get rid of me that easy," he smiled. His eyes moved from her face to her legs under the blankets. Still moving. "What's with all the kicking? We should get a soccer ball in here or something, huh?" He smiled again and JJ didn't know why. What was funny about a soccer ball?

"Stop…" JJ whined, tears springing to her eyes. She shoved his hand away.

"What's the matter?" Derek wondered. "What did I do?"

"Teasing. Don't tease… You asshole…"

"Whoa. Okay. I didn't mean to tease you. I'm sorry. But don't let mom hear you talkin' like that…" he warned.

"Don't care," JJ said moodily.

She hated this. She hated being here when she didn't even know what happened in the first place. Her head was killing her, she couldn't stop moving her damn legs and now her stupid brother was making fun of her? It sucked. It sucked even more when Derek rested his arms against her legs, and she relaxed. She didn't want to relax, but she couldn't help it.

"Just try to sleep, all right? Everything's okay," he said, and she wished his voice didn't make her feel so calm when she wanted to be pissed off.

Because nothing in her life made sense. One minute, she was leaving to go somewhere, and the next, she was another person.

She didn't feel like JJ anymore.

* * *

><p>When Emily arrived again that evening with Spencer in tow, Derek was clearly relieved to see them. JJ couldn't be bothered to look up from the stack of get-well cards in front of her, but Emily couldn't help asking the same question she'd asked every day since JJ had first started communicating.<p>

"Hey, JJ. Remember me?" Emily asked, trying to keep her tone light.

"Yes," JJ said, distracted.

"Who am I?" Emily quizzed.

"Mom…" she said, plain as day, and then amended, "Mom Prentiss."

Emily couldn't help it. She beamed. Most mothers would be devastated to hear their nineteen-year-olds regressed to this point, but Emily knew it was a victory. "That's right. Look who else is here," she prompted, keeping an arm around Spencer's shoulders.

JJ glanced up, a smile splitting her face. "Spence!" she exclaimed, opening her arms and Spencer checked with Emily to make sure it was okay, before approaching JJ and giving her the gentlest of hugs. Emily watched, in awe, as JJ held Spencer and kept looking at him, saying, "You're okay. You're okay."

"Wish she was that happy to see me earlier," Derek joked softly.

"Why? What happened?" Emily asked, immediately concerned.

"Thought I was making fun of her and cursed me out," he said matter-of-factly.

Emily bit her lip to keep from smiling. "That actually sounds a lot like our JJ." She sat down in one of the empty chairs across the small room and motioned Derek into the other one.

"Yeah, I know. I even told her you wouldn't want her sayin' that, and she told me she didn't care." Derek smiled.

"Ah. Well, it's nice to know some things don't change, isn't it?" Emily asked ruefully. "How are you doing? How's your knee?" she asked, changing the subject since JJ and Spencer seemed to be getting along fine.

"It's all right. No big deal. Shouldn't even talk about it, considering," he said, glancing over his shoulder at JJ. Spencer had carefully climbed into the bed beside JJ, at her insistence and they were talking with their heads bent close together. "Where's Aaron? Decided not to come?" Derek asked.

"Well, if I were him, I don't know if I'd want to come either considering what I found when I walked in the door."

Wariness crept into Derek's gaze. "What? Were they fighting?"

"I took care of it. Aaron stayed home with Dave. I haven't heard from Penelope lately. Have _you_?" she asked.

"Yeah, she sent me some pictures for JJ to see. Of family. Us and Janet," I ran to the closest place with photo equipment and printed them for her. Seems to like lookin' at 'em."

* * *

><p>"Who's this?" Spencer quizzed, pointing to a picture of their cat, Sergio.<p>

"Give me…a clue…" JJ asked in a wooden voice, with no inflection. Maybe this was what his mom meant when she told Spencer JJ was changed.

"He lives at our house," Spencer tried. There. That had been simple. Direct.

"Will you…tell me…the secret…" she asked lowly, throwing Spencer off. Hadn't they just been talking about Sergio?

"What secret?" he asked, keeping his voice even.

"No one…will say… Where's Janet…" JJ managed. "She won't…come see…me…"

Spencer cast a furtive glance over at their mom and Derek. They were involved in conversation, and he didn't think it would be wise to interrupt. He didn't want to be in more trouble. He thought again about the instructions his mom had given him. She had said to let her handle questions about Janet, but clearly, she hadn't been. So, he guessed he could give it a try.

"Janet isn't alive anymore. So, she's at the cemetery now," he confided matter-of-factly in a whisper.

"Oh…" JJ said, without any of the intense reaction Spencer feared.

"She's not by herself. Because Penelope's mom and dad are there, too," Spencer reassured. "She's fine. But that's why she can't visit you."

"I miss her," JJ confessed, her monotone voice echoing with a hint of regret. "I want…to see…her…"

Spencer reached down and found JJ's hand. "I know. I wish you could see her. But the only way I know of is in your dreams."

"Okay…" she said.

"Do you want to play a game?" Spencer asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah."

"I ask you a question and you answer it, okay?" he challenged.

"Then, I…ask you…"

"Yeah, okay, then you can ask me," he agreed, smiling. "First question. Where are you right now? What's this place called?"

"Hospital," she answered, sounding fairly certain.

Technically, it was a rehabilitation facility, but considering that JJ was currently struggling to string more than two fairly basic words together at a time, asking her to answer this question correctly was probably unfair. He would count it.

"Good. Can you say it in a sentence? What's this place called?" he asked, leaning his head against her shoulder.

"Hospital," she repeated, confident now.

"Say, 'I am in the hospital,'" he prompted.

"Hospital," she repeated.

"We'll work on it," he promised. "I love you, JJ."

"I know," she sighed, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

* * *

><p>It had been hours since their mom left with Spencer. Dave hadn't left the house to go back across the street, and Aaron didn't blame him. If he were Dave, he wouldn't want to go back either.<p>

Aaron's face throbbed, but he didn't do anything for it. It was habit. The second his mom left, he got rid of the ice and the towel. He'd be fine. He'd handled worse. But it made him nervous - the thought that the last time he'd called someone out on something, Aaron got pounded on - but he found he couldn't let it go. He had to ask Dave about it.

So, he crept into the living room and sat on the floor beside the easy chair, just like they had months before. "You knew," Aaron said hollowly.

"Knew what?" Dave asked, not even glancing away from the rerun of some show called _Mr. Ed_ long enough for Aaron to meet his gaze.

"You knew about my parents. That they had another kid," Aaron pressed.

"Yeah. I knew."

"Why did they keep him and not me?" Aaron asked, because it was just the two of them, and he could always trust Dave to tell him the truth, even when he couldn't trust anyone else.

"I don't know," Dave answered honestly. "But I'll keep you, all right? You stay here and keep being my grandson, and I'll stay, too. We'll stay for each other, all right?"

"All right," Aaron said softly, but he couldn't help wishing he were somebody's first choice, instead of their last.

**A/N: To those of you who wished I'd posted all of what I planned yesterday, here is the rest of it. Nothing goes to waste with this story, trust me! Glad to hear that all of you are enjoying. But please know that if the story ever gets too intense for you, you are welcome to stop reading it. I will completely understand. I know not everyone likes to delve into angst and interpersonal relationships like I do and that is completely fine. For those of you who are with me on the long-haul - especially those who have read from the beginning - thank you so much! I really appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Feel free to post your thoughts, questions, suggestions, etc, and know that you don't even have to log in!**


	13. Yearning

"Well, I'm gonna take off, kiddo," Dave told Aaron at the end of _Mr. Ed_. Dave's whole life could be measured in television these days. What a waste. But, without Carolyn, what did he have?

He thought back to the note he had found, by chance, that morning. By now, Dave had developed a habit of falling asleep in the living room chair, with the TV on. Three months later, and he finally managed to go in the bedroom for more than just necessities. That morning, he had sat down on the bed. He had let himself go. And then he had seen it. The corner of a piece of yellow legal paper, sticking out beneath Dave's own pillow.

That hadn't been there before. He made the bed with military precision. Come to think of it, he hadn't made the bed again after that day. He wondered who had taken the time. Emily? Carefully, he removed the note, nearly choking at the sight of Carolyn's delicate handwriting.

_David,_

_If you are reading this, it means I'm gone. I am so sorry to leave you like this, honey. I just couldn't saddle you with the responsibilities that our future would bring. I had hoped to bring this up with a bit more tact, but the fact is, there simply isn't time. I was diagnosed with Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis last year. It's progressing faster than expected. It won't be long until I will lose my balance and all of the things that make me the woman you know and love. I know what you're thinking. You would have taken care of me. I have no doubt in that. I just can't abide it. You deserve life, David, and a future full of light and adventure, not playing nurse for your ill wife. Be there for Emily as I would, and the children, too. Know that though I am not with you physically, I am with you in all other ways. I will watch over you and Emily and the kids. I will protect you in my own way, wherever I go from here. I'm getting tired, so I must close. You are the love of my life, and I believe a love like ours can transcend time and space. If you need me, simply think of me, and I know I will be there for you. James and I will wait for you, but don't come too soon. Live._

_I love you with my whole heart - with everything I am -_

_Carolyn_

By the end, Dave could barely see through the tears in his eyes. He clutched the letter to him. At second glance, Dave could see what he had missed. The tear stains in the ink. The spider web quality of the words and how they ran together. The fact that his wife, who had been a teacher, and a stickler for proper formatting, had not taken the time to make a distinction between paragraphs. It was as if she couldn't waste even a minute.

So, by the time he arrived at Emily's at dinnertime, Dave wasn't at his best. The note was folded carefully and tucked into his billfold, like everything sacred. When Spencer snapped and started beating on Aaron, Dave wasn't on his game. It took him extra time to move from the stove to the middle of the kitchen. To haul the skinny twelve-year-old off his fifteen-year-old brother. Thank God, Emily had walked in when she did.

With just Aaron in the house, and with his questions about his family, Dave found he couldn't stay there. He stood up, and so did Aaron.

"Call if you need something," he said out of habit, and made his way out the front door, the note burning a hole in his pocket.

* * *

><p>Aaron couldn't get the taste of blood out of his mouth. It was like pennies. It reminded him that he wasn't safe there. Just the thought of his mom dropping Spencer off that night had Aaron in his room, grabbing the bag he'd stored in the back of his closet. The one he'd kept ready, just in case. Then, he left a note for Dave, since he didn't believe in texting, and slipped out the door, locking it behind him.<p>

The truth sat in Aaron's gut like so many stones. The truth that everything he believed at six, was in fact true, not a lie, as he had been raised to believe. He really wasn't safe there. He'd thought he was. He'd let his guard down, thinking that since he hadn't had a hand raised to him in eight years, it would be somehow different. But it's the same. He spoke up and he got beat. It did him no good to be polite. His mom hadn't stopped it. Just like his biological mom never stopped his dad from doing anything to him. Dave had been there, but not quick enough. Aaron wasn't safe anywhere. And while he knew it was stupid to be afraid of Spencer, who was small and weak most of the time, Aaron found he _was_ afraid. He hadn't been prepared for the level of rage Spencer reached or how quickly he got there.

It only made sense to go to Haley. It was after midnight by now, but what choice did he have?

He made the short walk and knocked on her front door. He was unprepared for Mrs. Brooks to pull it open. She wore a robe and an angry expression.

"Yes?" she asked shortly.

"Ma'am, I don't mean to intrude. I just wondered if I could speak to Haley. It's impor-" he began, but was cut off.

"Do you know what's important, Aaron? Respect. I don't think you know the meaning of the word, coming over here at an ungodly hour looking like gang member with all your bruises. Get out. And don't even think about coming back unless it's at a decent hour and you've cleaned up your act," she snapped, closing the door in his face.

Aaron fought the shaking that instinctively crept up on him at the sound of the door. All his childhood memories were far too close at hand right now, and he needed to do something. While he'd been planning to crash at Haley's for a night, and go back once he'd gotten his head together, now that didn't seem like enough. He needed to get out of here. With a few seconds and a quick search on his phone, Aaron knew where he needed to go. There was a bus station an hour and fifteen minutes from here. But the first bus departing to his destination didn't arrive until 9:30 the following morning. Aaron thought about his options. Classmates who were rebellious enough to pick him up and old enough to drive. He thought of two with no trouble. Will LaMontagne and Katie Joyner. Will, Aaron dismissed right away. Will was on the football team. Will had hurt Spencer. And even though Spencer had hurt _Aaron_, that was still where his loyalties remained.

He made some calls and located Katie's number with little trouble. She was a foreign exchange student from England, who was confident and sure, and did her own thing. She wasn't forced to answer to her parents because she was half a world away from them.

"Katie. This is Aaron. Aaron Hotch- I mean, this is Aaron Prentiss," he stuttered, shocked to nearly have given her his former name. But, he supposed, it suited him. He was more Hotchner than he was Prentiss right now. "I apologize for calling so late, but I have a favor to ask."

"Sure. Anything," she said, her beautiful accent and ready-for-anything attitude a breath of fresh air.

"I need you to take me to the bus station in Fredericksburg," he supplied. "I can pay you. I know it's, like, an hour's drive."

"Tell you what. Why don't you tell me where you are, and I'll come get you. I'll sneak you in, and take you to the bus station in the morning, before my host family wakes up."

And that had been that. True to her word, Katie arrived within twenty minutes, and sneaked him into her bedroom window. Aaron spent the night with her - yes, _like that_ - and it was everything he needed it to be. She didn't ask questions about his beat-up appearance or his scars. She just allowed him to forget about his messed-up life. About JJ and Spencer and Carolyn and that other kid, his biological parents were raising. She just wanted him, on a night when he felt so thoroughly unwanted. It felt good, and right, only because he insisted on using protection. Otherwise, Aaron knew his mind would have been preoccupied at the thought of getting Katie pregnant. That was the farthest thing from romantic. But when they fell asleep in one another's arms? That was perfect.

The next morning, as promised, Katie woke him at six o'clock. He was exhausted, but knew it wouldn't do any good to sleep in if it meant Katie would be caught taking the car. So, he slept while she drove. They stopped by a coffee shop for breakfast, which she insisted on buying and refused his attempts at paying her for gas. Aaron paid one-hundred-some dollars for his ticket and then, they simply waited. He checked his belongings. The money was gone. It had taken years to save that much. He hadn't been able to save birthday money and Christmas money, since he constantly felt pressured to do what family and friends suggested and spend it on himself. Otherwise, it felt strange, writing thank you notes, and not specifying how their gift had helped exactly. Then, he settled for only saving the money his mom gave him, which wasn't much, since he was constantly giving it back. Quickly, Aaron checked the rest. Two shirts, a pair of pants, socks and other necessary clothes. A toothbrush. Deodorant. His cell phone. And the chocolate chip granola bar he'd stolen from the pantry in September, because even after living here all this time, there were still some habits Aaron couldn't shake.

Katie appeared completely at ease with herself and her actions. She was dressed in jeans and a heavy red sweater, with a scarf, hat and jacket and boots. For some reason, that reminded Aaron it was February. Katie was dressed for the weather. He wasn't. He had the standard black pants and long-sleeved shirt, but nothing to ward off the cold. She shared her hot apple cider with him, and Aaron appreciated how thoroughly she broke the British stereotype and wasn't a tea-drinker. He was beginning to love absolutely everything about her - which, he supposed was appropriate - since everything he loved, he always seemed to lose. He knew Katie wasn't staying. She would be back in England in four short months and Aaron would be here, with the memory of her on his tongue.

"How long is the ride?" Katie asked, as the departure time approached.

"Something like eight-and-a-half hours," he allowed, grateful she hadn't asked where he was going. Aaron wasn't planning on letting anyone know that.

Katie grimaced. "Did you bring anything more to eat?"

"I'll be fine," he assured her. "Thanks for last night."

"No problem. Call me if you need a ride back," she smiled, pecking him gently on his bruised cheek. She brushed it gently with her fingertips. "Whoever did this to you ought to be stuck in jail. Permanently."

Aaron smiled reflexively. "My little brother did this. He's twelve. Still think he should be stuck in jail?"

"_Spencer _did this?" Katie gasped and the only thing Aaron could think about was how refined the name sounded with her accent, and how ironic it was, given Spencer's recent behavior.

"Here it is," Aaron nodded at the bus approaching.

"Aaron," Katie said, getting his attention. "You'll call? If you need a ride?"

"Yes, I'll call," he promised, stopping just short of kissing her. "Thank you for everything."

He climbed the steps and looked back once, knowing that he had no intention of calling Katie Joyner. Because Aaron had no intention of going back at all.

**A/N: Hey, guys. Did a quick edit, since Tara621 pointed out that I misdiagnosed Carolyn initially. Now, she references the correct diagnosis. Thanks again for all your support! Any guesses as to where Aaron is off to? I know, but I'm not telling :)**


	14. Guilt

Penelope's farm was a haven. It was also a kind of self-imposed isolation that only her cats and horses could break. Away from all the drama in her family, and only getting occasional updates from Derek or Emily about JJ's progress, Penelope poured herself into work. She took calls from clueless computer owners, who didn't know the make or model number of their computer, much less the specific nature of their technical issue. Penelope practiced the patience she didn't have as a teenager. She gave it freely to these strangers, because she could not face her own pseudo-brothers and sister in their hour of need.

JJ being where she was right now, was just plain sad, because it didn't have to happen. If she had just stopped for two seconds and thought about something other than herself, maybe she wouldn't be where she was now. On the surface, there was that. If she dug deeper, Penelope knew that had Emily not come into her life when she had, Penelope might very well be living JJ's circumstances. That's exactly what Penelope didn't get, though. JJ _had_ Emily. She had eight years away from her former life, to transform herself into any kind of person she wanted. Instead of really going for it, JJ had just kind of slowly self-destructed. She'd been like a stick of dynamite, with a slow burning fuse. No one really knew it was happening, until it was too late. They couldn't uncrash her car, or bring Carolyn back. Penelope knew that Carolyn's suicide was the most likely candidate for what pushed JJ to the edge that night. But there were also a million other little things that were in motion before that day in late October. Penelope knew it more than most. Maybe that was why she stayed away. Not because JJ drove drunk, and Penelope lost her parents to a drunk driver, but something deeper.

She couldn't face the ripples her own inaction caused. She couldn't face the guilt.

There had been the calls. All the times JJ asked for money, and the time she applied for a loan and listed Penelope as a co-signer. Months later, Penelope was still paying off the debt she doesn't owe and never told Emily about because JJ begged her. There was the boyfriend. Stan. Who Penelope absolutely could not stand. And that was saying a lot, because Penelope loved everybody. Stan hurt JJ and JJ was so in love she was oblivious that what he was doing to her was ten kinds of wrong. Because of JJ's age, there was nothing Penelope could do, unless JJ decided to press charges, which, of course, she never did. It made Penelope sick.

Still, no matter how many times she tried to convince JJ to go to Emily with her financial struggles, or to talk about her skeevy boyfriend, JJ stubbornly refused. And Penelope - God, forgive her - had let it go. Now, everything was different.

Better to close herself off from everyone, than risk making the same mistakes again.

* * *

><p>Derek had gotten so that he practically knew everybody who had even a passing familiarity with JJ at her DC rehabilitation facility. Spencer and their mom were spending every night in the Ronald McDonald house, to be near JJ. Derek stayed there most nights, too, because he had nowhere else to be.<p>

In the morning, while Spencer stayed back to do some schoolwork, and their mom stayed to be sure it got done, Derek headed over to the rehab facility to visit JJ. He was unprepared for the beauty that waited for him in the elevator. He guessed she wasn't exactly waiting for him, but she was there, and he was there, so why play semantics?

"Haven't seen you around," he said, eyeing her with equal parts suspicion and interest. She wasn't dressed as any kind of staff member, so Derek deduced she was here to visit, as he was. "You got family here?" he asked.

"Not exactly," she said easily. "Just a friend I sort of owe a debt to. That's not the reason I'm here…" she qualified quickly. "It's just the reason I left school on a Friday to come out here instead of going to class."

"So, you're a good friend," Derek smiled.

"I was gonna say 'bad student,' but I like your answer better." She returned his smile and it lit up her entire face. She paused briefly. "It feels a little odd flirting in a place like this," she admitted, glancing down and tucking her hair behind her ear.

"Oh, my sister wouldn't care. In fact, she's probably glad I'm out of her hair," Derek laughed easily.

"Your sister's here? I'm so sorry. What's her name?" the mystery girl asked. "I'll keep her in my prayers. Send her encouraging thoughts. Whatever you're comfortable with."

Derek came to a stop outside JJ's door. "This is my stop. Sorry," he said, not sorry at all that he'd avoided the uncomfortable subject of prayer.

The nameless girl squinted at the number beside the door, and the one on the scrap of paper in her hand. "Mine, too," she said, a little breathless. "What did you say your name was?"

"Derek. I'm JJ's brother. Who are you?" he asked, not caring that the flirtation and politeness had dropped off him like an ill-fitting coat.

"So, you're Derek. I pictured you differently," she mused, tilting her head. She shook her head, as if to clear it. "I'm so sorry. I'm Jordan Todd. JJ's roommate at Pitt. Nice to meet you." Jordan extended a hand and waited.

Derek's face relaxed into a smile. "Sorry. Protective older brother. It's instinct. Nice to meet you, too," he said, and meant it. "Wait here."

He tapped on the door, opened it and then doubled back to the desk, to ask about JJ's location. Just then, he spotted JJ being wheeled back to her room and intercepted her chair.

She was pale. Her hair was just starting to grow back around the massive scars on her head. JJ wore sweats like she would on a lazy day around the house. She squinted a lot because the part of her brain that controlled visual perception was damaged and she couldn't always interpret what was around her. It made everyday tasks huge, and scary. It made JJ panic, when she was unsure of where exactly she was and who was around her. Derek knew she coped well because of her ability to identify voices, but sometimes even that was difficult. He was getting used to the two steps forward, one step back routine that brain injuries were. One day, JJ would be doing fantastic and the next? She was moody and irritable, depressed and withdrawn. It hadn't taken her long to lose her newfound fondness for him, that was for sure. Now, it was more like before than ever, with JJ blowing him off, in favor of other people. Mainly, their mom and Spencer.

"Where's Mom?" JJ asked irritably.

"She's back with Spencer making sure he does his schoolwork," Derek answered easily. He parked the chair and helped her back into bed. For the first time, JJ seemed to notice Derek wasn't alone.

"Who's that." It was a statement, not a question

Derek didn't miss the flash of hurt in Jordan's eyes. He'd forgotten to warn her that JJ's memory for people could be spotty. Probably because she'd been making steady progress in the few weeks since she really woke up from the coma. She could hold a pencil, write her name, and walk with help. But her memory was full of holes. She was unable to recognize about half the letters in the alphabet. Counting money was now a foreign concept to her.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when JJ spoke again, brashly, and like she clearly disapproved. "Is she your _sex_?"

Derek nearly choked. He knew what she meant, but God, it wasn't like he discussed his love life with his family. They all treaded pretty carefully on topics of romance and relationships with him, because of his past, but all that didn't matter to JJ. It wasn't that she _didn't _care. More like she _couldn't._

He cleared his throat. "No," he managed. "No, she's just a friend. She came to say hi. JJ, this is Jordan," he introduced as if they were new acquaintances instead of longtime roommates.

"Hey, JJ it's nice to meet you," Jordan greeted, in an admirably steady tone of voice.

"Fine," JJ answered, turning away. "I'm tired."

"All right. We'll let you rest." Derek said, squeezing her hand.

JJ flinched away from him and Derek stepped back. He tended to forget that now, JJ didn't always see him coming, and he could catch her by surprise more often than not.

"You okay?" he pressed gently.

"My fault…" she murmured, her eyes falling closed.

"What's your fault?" Derek asked.

"Everything…is my fault. Don't lie…It is. Isn't it…" she sighed.

* * *

><p>"So, you know how you were afraid that JJ would have an intense reaction to finding out about Janet?" Spencer asked casually, while focused intently on the assigned reading on the screen of his laptop. "She didn't."<p>

Emily was about to reprimand him. To remind him to focus. Then, what he said clicked inside her head. "You _told _JJ about Janet? After I specifically asked you to let me handle it?"

"She asked me," he shrugged. "She even called it the secret. She wanted me to tell her the secret about Janet because you wouldn't. She was fine with it, though. Not even upset."

"Spencer, I'm the parent, remember?" Emily sighed, trying to keep her temper.

"I have an eidetic memory," he responded, clearly distracted by whatever he was reading. "Besides, JJ's an adult. She can make her own choices," he said in a maddeningly self-assured tone that bordered on arrogance.

"Stop reading and look at me," Emily insisted, in a no-nonsense manner. When he met her eyes, she continued. "JJ has a head injury. She's not in a position to judge what she is ready to hear. Besides which, her reaction is something that her doctors want to be aware of. It's a benchmark in measuring her progress, how she reacts to distressing news."

"Well, I didn't know that." Spencer said, looking out the window. "Mom, what's the point of all this? I have to study."

Emily tried to breathe. She reminded herself that despite his genius intelligence, he was still just twelve. Derek at twelve had been haunting. JJ at near the same age had been entitled and rebellious, and Aaron, a quiet mystery. Spencer was somehow, a combination of all of his siblings. She remembered the high standard she had set for Derek when he first moved in, and how unfair it had been.

Still, Emily knew, it was just as big of disservice to set the bar too low as far as expected behavior. Just because they were in the middle of a family issue didn't mean the basics went out the window.

"The point is that you are going to start respecting the people in this family. I am your mother and I know what's best for you. When I ask you to do something, I expect you to listen to me. What you told JJ could have really set her back." Emily paused briefly, and thought. "I want an essay from you on the importance of rules and authority figures in society. Five to seven pages, typed and double spaced. Your own words. Due by eight o'clock tonight, because I'm not staying up until past midnight to receive it and then not have time to go over it with you."

Spencer's mouth dropped open.

Emily knew what he was thinking. It was already six-thirty. He didn't have time. But she simply nodded at him to get to work.

* * *

><p>At dusk, a knock sounded at Penelope's front door. Cali meowed, annoyed at the unexpected intrusion, but Penelope did her best to act naturally. Never mind that no one came to visit out here. Ever. It was what she loved about the place. Still, she walked to the door and pulled it open, completely unprepared for the sight that met her eyes.<p>

Aaron, stood on her porch, his face a mess of bruises.

**A/N: 12wallflower, you win the prize! (Which is not a prize as much as it is my happiness that you are so invested in this story that you made the right guess as to where Aaron would go.) Yay for you! Thanks to all of you who sent in guesses, and even those of you who didn't guess or review, and are just along for the ride. I appreciate each and every one of you! Thoughts on Penelope's isolation? Derek and Jordan? JJ? Emily's additional homework assignment for Spencer? Aaron showing up where he did? Feel free to comment about any of this and more! I make notes about things you guys mention, especially if it's some area I've overlooked that needs attention! So share your thoughts with me! I love reading them!**


	15. Letter

_Dear Mom,_

_I understand that the assignment you gave me was to discuss the importance of rules and authority figures in society. As you know, I have no problem reciting what I have read and even some of what I've heard from you regarding these issues. Since you specifically asked me not to do that, I have decided it would make more sense to give you an idea of who I was before you knew me. That way, you'll have the chance to understand where I am coming from, and simultaneously, I can do my best to defer the important things to you, and obey the rules you have set in the house. A family is about give and take, right?_

_I was born on October 9, 2007. My mother, Diana Reid, was a brilliant and well-respected literature professor who had been diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia when she was in her twenties. (I learned this, thanks to letters she sends me in her clear moments, because I have asked her to tell me about her life, and she is very understanding, when she is lucid.) When she learned she was pregnant with me, my mother made the choice to go off her medication, because they can have negative effects on fetuses and babies. She told me she was scared the whole time, but she did it for me, because she wanted me to have the chance to grow up healthy instead of damaged. I am grateful to her every day for making that choice._

_However, because she made the choice to go off her medications in January of 2007, that began a domino-effect of consequences that she could neither predict nor control. My mother had me, and went back on her medication but had a difficult time reaching the correct level, and getting the specific kind of medication that worked for her symptoms. Because of this, a lot of our time was spent inside. Some days, she was clear-minded, and she could read to me and take care of me. Some days, she ranted and covered our windows in tinfoil to prevent the government from watching us. I could read by three years old, and by four, I was clumsily trying to copy down lyrics of Bob Dylan songs that my mom felt were written about our lives. She knew the government and Bob Dylan were both watching us at all times, and that everything around both of us were signs of them finding us. Once they found us, she told me that they would torture us and try to break us. I never understood the exact nature of what she was afraid of. I didn't even realize she was mentally ill until I came to live with you. I just thought that all kids my age were responsible for getting their own breakfasts, keeping reasonably clean, and taking care of their moms. _

_It didn't always work. I was hurt sometimes around the house when I was trying to take care of us. I used to get severe nosebleeds and my mother of course, would freeze, because that's what the color red meant. Stop whatever she was doing. I remember walking from room to room, bleeding, and feeling completely normal about it. Once, I slipped when I was trying to climb on a chair and grab something out of the cupboard. When I fell and hit my head, my mother came and yelled at me. She said I was making too much noise and that the government would surely find us now. I was terrified for days. I've never told anyone this, but I actually lost control of my bladder at night because I was so scared. It was embarrassing, but I couldn't help it. My mom kept us in complete isolation from the rest of society. One day, she woke me up screaming that they were after her. She was throwing things and hurting herself and demanding that I call for help. She always told me never to call for help, because any help from the outside was a trick, but I was only four and didn't know what else to do. The police came, and then Anderson, who took me to your house. _

_So, you see, the only thing I knew about authority was that it posed a severe threat to myself and my mother. Rules were in place for our protection and survival. Break one, and everything else fell apart. Everything I understood growing up was informed by my mother, the literature professor's paranoia. Therefore, rules and authority are things I have always had a difficult time grasping and adhering to. I'd much rather do my own thing, and if left to my own devices, I revert to what I know. This isn't an excuse, it's me, trying to give you a clearer picture of who I am and what I came from as a child. I have a hard time accepting that rules are in place for my safety, and trusting authority figures in my life - even you - because I can't get rid of the feeling that at any moment there could be dire consequences. It has always been better to stay below the radar of authority than to obey it, in my experience. Even though, logically, I understand why it's in place. I know you love me and want the best for me, as well as for Aaron, JJ, Derek and Penelope. I realize that I have been your son for several years now, but I also have been, and always will be, Diana Reid's son, and like it or not, she informed my most formative years._

_I was not raised with any kind of traditional rules for my first four years of life. I took care of both myself and my mother. I made sure we ate, and I reminded her of things we needed. I kept her calm. I told her I would stay awake and keep watch, if she wanted to get some sleep. I transcribed all the Bob Dylan songs she told me to, and promised her I would only stay around safe colors and people, because that made her feel calm and happy. Then, one day, she told me that it wouldn't matter how hard we tried, the government would find me anyway. While I realize now it wasn't the government, who took me, I was still removed against my will from my mother's care. It felt like bad people found us and were separating us for interrogational purposes. That, in combination with being in the outside world for the first time I could remember, was very overwhelming. The idea that I was being removed, as you said, because I wasn't safe, was ridiculous to me. I had taken care of both myself and my mother for as long as I could remember. We were only safe when we were together. It was the outside world that was dangerous. Yes, I was hurt a few times, but that wasn't my mother's fault, it was due to my level of physical development at the time. My clumsiness, if you will._

_I understand perfectly well how to behave within the rules and regulations of a hospital because my mother, the literature professor, taught me when we were visiting someone. She told me in hospitals, we treat the people carefully and speak quietly. We never raise our hands or voices. That's how I knew how to act around JJ. That's why I would never hurt her, regardless of what you may believe._

_I am not proud of hurting Aaron. I understand that what I did was wrong. While I still feel very hurt by the things he said, that does not justify what I did to him. I'm going to be very honest with you, because it won't do any good to lie. I hurt Aaron the other day, because I could. I hurt him because I knew he wouldn't fight back. All that registered in that moment was that Aaron brought up what happened to me after Carolyn died, and that then, I was completely powerless. I had the choice with Aaron that I didn't have then. I chose to hurt him. I wish I hadn't, but I can't change it. Hurting Aaron was the result of so many factors, all stacked on top of one another. Carolyn's death, and its unexpected nature, what happened to me on the football field, and then, JJ's accident. I still have a difficult time coping when just one thing goes wrong, so when all these things happened simultaneously, I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to act. As strange as it sounds, it's not ingrained in me to come and talk to you or anyone else about what I might be feeling. What is instinctive is to keep my head down, and do what I have to do to take care of things myself. I try to think critically and carefully at every turn. I try to weigh the different effects my actions might have on others, but sometimes, it's impossible to do that. Sometimes, the pressure is just too much._

_I am a genius, but I'm also twelve years old. There is no one else I know like me. I don't want this assignment to be full of excuses, but Mom, it is so hard to be me. All the adults in my life tell me I am brilliant, while my peers bully me and tell me I'm socially inept. I realize that this will pass and as I grow older, things will perhaps, get easier, but when you're a child, time goes by very slowly. It seems there is no end to the torture of being both too intelligent and too stupid all at once. When things overwhelm me, I don't know what to do. I still don't know how to adequately identify what I am feeling. Growing up the way I did, it wasn't reasonable to take the time to analyze or breathe. The only choice I ever had was to act immediately. _

_I don't really want to kill myself. I didn't mean to hurt you or Dave or anyone. I just want the pain in my life to stop. I don't have all the tools I need to cope with what's happening around me. Therapy helps, but only to a point. I am not naïve enough to think that when I grow up, everything will be better. I watch the news. I watch my brothers and sisters. I watch you. I know life is still hard even when you grow up. My question is, if it's this hard now for me, how will I stand it when it gets worse? That's where I think helping JJ is an excellent idea. It really helps me to be able to pour my energy into something positive. It's helpful to know that JJ needs me and that I can actually help her. That I can make a positive impact on her life. I suppose that's the lesson in all of this, isn't it? Will I choose to make a positive impact, as with JJ, or a negative one, as with Aaron?_

_The honest answer is, I will make more mistakes. I am still growing. I am still learning. As I stated earlier, therapy is a great tool, but honestly, Mom, what I really need is you. I need your positive influence on me and I feel like somewhere along the way, that was lost. Whether due to grief or absence because of JJ's accident, I don't know. I'm not trying to blame you or cause you guilt or sadness. My point is only that I had four years with my mother, the literature professor, and that has informed so much of how I see the world and how I cope in it. I have had twice the time with you, but just because I am twelve and have and IQ of 187 doesn't mean I don't still need a strong maternal presence to correct me when I am wrong, to teach me what I don't know yet, and to love me regardless of the choices I make._

_In return, I promise to try harder to be a better person. I will make an effort to complete my schoolwork on time and serve my consequences without complaint. I promise to put as much energy as I used to into taking care of myself into seeking you out. I promise to put that energy into positive things, like helping myself and others around me. I promise to thoroughly search for other options outside of violence, when I reach a breaking point. I promise to work on respecting you and everyone in the family, even when I am angry with you. I promise to use my free time while I am being punished to think about what has brought me here, and how I can redefine the words 'rules' and 'authority' so that they work for me, and so that I can obey them and feel safe doing so._

_I hope this is satisfactory - actually, I hope it's more than that, as I don't turn in merely satisfactory work - and I hope that in reading this you have learned a little more about who I am and how I see the world. _

_Even though my attitude has been very negative, I hope you know that I love you very much. I am thankful every day that you took me in and gave me a safe place to grow up and taught me so much of what was new and strange at the time. I hang onto things - both positive and negative - in my life. I want you to know that your impact on me has been the most positive out of anyone I have encountered. I love my mother, the literature professor, for giving me a love of books, and for giving me intelligence and all those biological traits that I would not trade for anything. However, I love you for being willing to take on such a confused little boy, when you already had several confused children living with you. Thank you for giving me a house to live in, clothes to wear, pajamas at night. Thank you for cooking meals for me and taking me places I need to go. Thank you for making sure no one hurts me, and that I don't hurt anyone else - and if I do - that I do not get away with it. That is not the kind of person I want to be. I want to be a person you can be proud of. _

_I don't know the first real thing about rules or authority or how they benefit society. Not something I can tell you in my own words, without quoting other people's thoughts on the subject. So, I am willing to take an F on this assignment, because I realize I did not do what was asked. But I am also willing to learn, if you'll teach me. I will listen and be respectful, too. I hope you still like me after reading this. I am trying very hard to be honest and not defensive or embarrassed but it is hard because I have had to be defensive, and my early life, is by its own nature, embarrassing. _

_Love, Spencer_

**A/N: This is not my typical chapter, but it was borne out of an burst of inspiration from Tara621 and a recent message from maxandkiz. This, needless to say, is Spencer's assignment from Emily. For those who are curious, it's seven pages, written in 90 minutes, just as Emily required. I love seeing more of Spencer's heart instead of just his attitude. What do you guys think?**


	16. Discussion

For several minutes after Emily read Spencer's letter, she was speechless. Never had she been granted such a window into any of her kids' lives. It wasn't even what she asked him to provide - because she was a firm believer in letting her kids come to her when they were ready - but it was what he gave. Emily read and reread the letter, trying to keep her own composure, and failing. She knew she had to discuss this with him, but where to even start? Well, the beginning of the letter, she supposed.

Emily got up from the small table and chairs and moved to the bed, where Spencer sat. "I want to talk to you about this."

"Why are you crying?" Spencer wondered, sounding unsure. "I know I didn't do the assignment correctly, and I'm sorry," he added in a rush.

"I'm crying because your letter really touched me," she explained.

"Touched you emotionally?" he clarified. "But it's just about _me_. How would that elicit such a strong reaction?"

"Because, Spencer, you're my son. And by writing this for me, I'm able to get to know so much more about the person you are, just as you hoped I would. I'm crying because I'm grateful. But," she paused, taking a deep breath, "I promised a discussion, so let's discuss this."

"Okay," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

"First, a family is most definitely about give and take. You're right about that. Thank you for trusting me enough to open up to me about your background. I knew some basics about your biological mother, but your letter let me know even more what an incredible person she is. I think it was very brave of her to make the choice she did, to go off her medication for your benefit. If not, I might have never gotten the chance to know you, and love you."

"I thought you would think she was irresponsible. That's what people said when Anderson took me, and when I used to go visit her, and she would have an episode and become unstable. They said, people like her should never have children. They whispered, but I could still hear them. I have very sensitive ears," he confided, studying the comforter on the bed.

Emily pursed her lips. She didn't know which people, exactly, Spencer was referring to, but she had no doubt he was telling the truth. "You're a very sensitive person, honey, and that's a good thing. I want to tell you something, and I need you to look at me."

Hesitantly, Spencer raised his head and met her eyes. Emily could read the fear in them.

"Those people were wrong," Emily said certainly. "You were meant to be here. As a mother, if I were in your mother's shoes, I can only hope to have been as brave as she was."

_I wasn't, though._ The thought was in Emily's head before she could stop it. The thought of the baby she'd been carrying at fifteen, and completely unprepared to have and raise a child. Diana Reid was far more courageous than Emily had ever been.

Spencer was silent, and stared at her with an unflinching gaze.

"This is a discussion. It takes two people." Emily encouraged. "You can say what's on your mind and I'll listen to you." She read the uncertainty on his face and held up her phone. "This is on silent. Derek is with JJ and I trust him to take good care of her. Dave's with Aaron. I'm with you. Okay? So, please, feel free to speak your mind."

"Thank you for saying my mother was brave," Spencer said, surprising Emily with his words as much as the fact that he reached out to hug her. "It really means a lot to me that you respect her."

"Of course I respect her, honey," Emily managed, reaching out to hug him back. "She did the best she could by you. I know that. I've always known that. Come here. Would you like to sit with me?" Emily asked, patting her lap.

Spencer bit his lip and then nodded. Emily put her arms around him, and held the letter in front of them both.

"I remember you having a lot of these fears you describe in your letter when you first came. At first, I didn't understand what you were reacting to, but as time went on, it made more sense," Emily paused. "Do you understand now, that toddlers aren't meant to take care of themselves and they aren't meant to take care of their mothers?"

"In theory," Spencer answered, leaning against her. "But it still felt very normal to me."

"I understand," Emily told him softly. "While I understand that your mother was coping the best she could, you shouldn't have had to take care of yourself when you were that little. I hate that you walked around with nosebleeds, and fell down, and you weren't taken care of."

"How do you mean?" he asked honestly. "I guess…what I mean is…what would _you_ have done?"

Emily sighed. "If you had a nosebleed at my house, I would have gone to you and reassured you that everything was okay. I would have held you and gotten you Kleenex or a towel and pinched your nose until the bleeding stopped. And if you were with me, you wouldn't have been standing on a chair to get anything. I'd like to think I would have caught you before you did it, and asked you what you needed and how I could help you."

"What if you didn't and I still fell? Would you have yelled at me?" he asked, his tone matter of fact.

"No," Emily said, holding him a little tighter. "I would have made sure you were all right. Given you a hug and a kiss," - at this, she squeezed him a little and kissed the top of his head - "and when you were feeling better I would explain why it was dangerous to climb on chairs and that you should let a grown up help you."

"Interesting," Spencer replied, his tone of voice intrigued and clinical.

"Reading your letter, I can see that you don't have a frame of reference for rules or authority figures - at least not a positive one - and that's my mistake. I should have taken more time with you to explain why you needed to listen to me. I want to try something that might help you grasp why authority is important. When you first moved in with me, you had a lot of fears and beliefs about the world. What did I do when I realized that?"

"You corrected me. You told me why my mother believed those things, but that they weren't true."

"That's right. I corrected you, because as an adult, there were things I was aware of that you, at four years old, didn't know yet. And that was okay. Part of what a mother does is teach you what you don't know. Now, this is just hypothetical," Emily cautioned. "I'm using it as an example to teach you something, not as a threat or anything negative do you understand?" she asked, turning Spencer a little, so they could see one another.

"Yes, I understand! I _love_ hypotheses!" Spencer enthused. This was, by far, as excited as Emily had seen him in months.

"Okay! Great! So, hypothesize with me… If, when you were little, and came to me with your original beliefs about the world, but I had done nothing, or if I had tried to do something, and you had fought me on it, what do you think would have happened?" Emily wondered.

"I probably would have persisted in the belief that I was being watched, being afraid of colors and adopting more and more of my mother's skewed beliefs about the world," Spencer said honestly.

"I would say that's a pretty accurate guess," Emily confirmed. "Now, let me ask you this, would it have been morally right for me as a mother to persist in letting a child in my care believe things I knew were untrue and damaging to him, _if I knew better_?"

"No," Spencer answered quickly. "Though morality is somewhat subjective…" he qualified.

"Just stick with your gut on this, though. No, it wouldn't. If someone younger than you, came to you and said that they were…afraid of _the moon_…because they heard it was made of cheese and there were mice up there that chewed it into different shapes. And they were terrified that one day, the whole moon would be gone. Would you let them believe it, or would you correct them?" Emily asked, hoping her scenario was ridiculous enough that Spencer would take it that way.

"I would correct them," Spencer said certainly.

"When I correct you, it's because I know something you haven't learned yet. That's not meant as anything negative, just fact. When I was twelve, there was no way I knew what I know now. I've learned so much between then and now. You will, too. But I need you to really work on keeping that in mind when I tell you to shower every day, or get your schoolwork done, for example. I tell you those things for reasons, and I want you to do as I ask, because it shows me you respect. Do you understand?"

Spencer nodded.

"I can see how you thought that staying below the radar, so to speak, was safer than following rules. That's how you coped before you came to live with me, and it makes sense, given where you were. But you're not there anymore, honey. The rules out here in society aren't to threaten you."

He cocked his head and squinted. "Can we do another hypothesis? I'm good at those and they make sense to me."

"Okay. Dave used to be a police officer, right? _Hypothetically_ now… What if we had police officers that didn't do what _their _bosses told them? What if they just kept their heads down and looked the other way when someone was speeding or when someone called them for help? Or what if they took justice into their own hands because they could? What do you think the world would be like?" Emily questioned.

Spencer thought for a full minute. "Chaotic," he finally said. "Everybody would just be looking out for themselves and there wouldn't be any order. People could get away with hurting other people, speeding or doing drugs. The world would be awful. And if police took things into their own hands, that wouldn't be fair either, because that's what the justice system is for."

"Right. These examples I've given you, I want you to look at them like templates. If I tell you to do something…"

"You're bringing order to potential chaos!" Spencer interjected. "And you're doing what's morally right as a human being by taking care of me and not letting me get away with things I shouldn't. That's why I should listen to you and the house rules?"

"Exactly," Emily smiled. "Now, I understand you're having a really hard time right now and I haven't been here for you. I am so sorry about that. I won't give you excuses. You deserve to have a mom who's present in your life, and I need to balance my time and priorities better, and make you one. You don't need to do anything in return. Do you understand? Those things you asked for? They're part of my responsibilities as your mom. I'm glad you're willing to work on yourself, but I don't want you to do it in exchange for my attention. That's not right. I promise, I'll do better by you, Spencer."

"Thank you," he answered in a small voice.

"If you have questions about anything, even something basic, I want you to come and talk to me. If you start feeling overwhelmed, come and talk to me. If you find it easier to write to me, we can do that. We can…I don't know…start a notebook, just for the two of us."

"Like a private journal? Wait. Do you have one with the other kids, too?" Spencer asked, suddenly skeptical.

"No, I don't. The idea just came to me now. If it's something you'd like, we can start doing. We can ask each other questions or you can just use it as a place to let me know what's going on in your head. What do you think about that?"

"I think that's a fantastic idea," Spencer enthused. "_And _I even volunteer my Statistics and Probability notebook for the journal!"

Emily laughed. "I'm sure I can find a spare notebook for us to use. Though, thank you so much for your generosity. That's sweet of you," she said, pulling him to her and giving him a kiss. "I do love you. You know that, right? No matter the choices you make."

"Yes," Spencer admitted. "But I need to hear it more often, I think."

"I love you," Emily repeated sincerely. "You're a great kid. And I appreciate your patience with JJ. I think you both will be good for each other. Those were great lessons your biological mother taught you about how to behave in a hospital. I was really proud of you. If it ever gets to be too much around her, let me know. There's no pressure here. If you'd rather hang out with Derek, or go back home with Aaron and Dave, that's an option, if you can show me I can trust you not to raise a hand to your brother. I want you to live as though your mother's hospital rules apply at home, too. Treat each other carefully. Speak quietly. Never raise your hand or your voice."

Spencer nodded seriously. "I'll try harder to control my impulsiveness."

"I appreciate that."

Emily scanned the letter to be sure she hadn't missed anything.

"One more thing? You never have to be embarrassed to tell me about yourself or your life. I understand it was difficult and I understand you're hurting, and just searching for ways to cope. But I'll help you, okay? You're not alone, and I don't want you to feel like that for one more minute. And things _do _get better, okay? I promise."

"But what about when I'm a dad and what if my kids beat each other up or my daughter gets in an accident or what if you do what Carolyn did?"

"First, I will give you my word that I will never do what Carolyn did. So I will be there whenever you have parenting questions. We can talk about it together."

"Even when I'm old?" he asked, suddenly seeming very young.

"Even when you're old," she confirmed, and glanced toward the ceiling. Hadn't she been trusting Carolyn though this whole thing, for the right words to say? Hadn't she given them?

Carolyn's final piece of advice, echoed in Emily's head. _Take care of the kids. _Emily had lost focus for a while, but now, she was determined to honor Carolyn's wishes.

**A/N: So glad Emily and Spencer got to talk. I had imagined this conversation being shorter and had additional plans for this chapter, but look for them coming up in the next one! Thanks, as always, for all of your feedback! Feel free to let me know your thoughts on this or any chapter!**


	17. Escape

"Come in. Oh my God. What happened to you?" Penelope asked, gaping at Aaron's bruised face. She watched as Aaron dragged himself inside and fell onto the couch. "Aaron. Talk to me."

"It's nothing. Look, I'm sorry for just showing up like this. I know you weren't expecting me. I promise, I'll make it so you don't even know I'm here," he said, looking at her wearily.

"That's where you're wrong, President Aaron. You're always welcome, and I want you to be completely in my way. It's nice to have some company."

"No, you don't. You live out here so no one will bother you," he said plainly.

"Well, you're family. Family _gets to _bother me," Penelope reassured. Sensing Aaron wasn't ready to talk about what brought him here, Penelope set to making him feel comfortable. "I've got some leftover chicken stew and amazing brownies. Sit down with me," she encouraged.

She watched Aaron hesitate. "I'm really just exhausted. I'd like to sleep if that's all right."

"Totally," she confirmed. "But eat something first?" she asked gently, busying herself with reheating the stew.

Aaron sighed, and sat down. He flinched as Casper jumped onto his lap and then climbed onto his shoulders to lie down for a better view. Aaron sat stiffly and waited.

"Casper, come on. Don't bug Aaron," Penelope called, as if the cat could understand English. Casper practically could. He was smarter than any dog. He jumped down and came to Penelope, sprawling across her shoulders and watching all the action at the table.

"You let him do that?" Aaron asked quietly.

"He just likes a good view. He doesn't hurt anything," Penelope reassured. She watched him until he slowly ate a spoonful of stew. "So, does Emily know you're here?"

"I left a note for Dave," Aaron qualified. Penelope could read what he wasn't saying all over Aaron's face.

"Yeah, I bet you did," she smiled. "What'd it say?"

"I'm at Haley's."

Penelope raised her eyebrows.

"What?" he asked, a little defensive. "It wasn't a total lie. I really thought I'd be there, but her mom wouldn't let me in…so…"

"Where's Spencer?" Penelope wondered.

"With Mom seeing JJ," Aaron muttered. "I wouldn't have left him alone."

"I know that," Penelope answered softly. "You want to tell me what happened to you?" she pressed.

"It's no big deal," he insisted.

"Looks like a pretty big deal to me," Penelope maintained.

"Well, Mom was there and she didn't think so. Dave, either. So, you know, whatever…" Aaron sulked.

"I'm sorry about that. For a second, I thought you might have gotten a wild hair and decided to go back to your crazy first set of parents. Glad you just came to me, though."

"Yeah, that's because they're busy raising another kid. One they don't treat like total shit," he said darkly.

Penelope's breath caught. "Really?"

"Oh, like you don't know!" he exclaimed. "You're in everybody's business all the time! You figured out stuff about when Derek went missing all that time ago, and you figured out which moron recorded Spencer getting tortured at school. I know you read up on us and our families."

"You're right. I have. But I didn't know _that_, Aaron, I swear."

She watched as he pressed his lips together. "Doesn't matter anyway. I'm sorry for being rude, it's just been a long day," he sighed.

Penelope nodded, and left him at the table while she changed the sheets and comforter on her own bed, knowing that she would take the couch while her brother was here. Sleeping anywhere other than in a bed triggered him into remembering his childhood, when he wasn't allowed the dignity of sleeping anywhere other than in completely inhumane conditions.

She went to her tiny restroom and pulled out a spare washcloth and towel and set them on the edge of her tub. She grabbed a funny oven mit from the kitchen and hung it on the outer bathroom doorknob. It was a kind of inside joke - one she hoped Aaron knew was meant to lighten the mood and let him know he was safe with her. Then she did a run through of the rest of her house, trying to determine if there was anything else Aaron might need or want. Knowing him, Penelope knew she couldn't rely on him to tell her straight out. He had lived with so much less that anything he got now he considered extra. If she forgot a pillow, for example, he wouldn't point it out. He'd sleep without it, grateful after eight years, just to have a bed.

She took a few tech calls while Aaron showered and changed. Then, instead of disappearing in his room, Penelope looked over her shoulder to see him standing in the doorway of the living room.

"Can I come in?" he asked softly.

"Absolutely. I was just about to turn on a movie. Want to join me?" she asked, pleased when he came and sat in an easy chair, pulling one of her throw blankets over him.

"Which one?" he asked carefully.

Truth be told, prior to Aaron's arrival, Penelope had blocked out this entire evening to watch hours of _Buffy the Vampire Slayer _on DVD, but she instinctively decided against it now. Penelope reached experimentally between her couch cushions, knowing she'd lost a DVD there earlier and hadn't yet managed to dig it out. "How about _Madagascar_?" she asked, smiling. "Just happened to have it on hand."

Aaron nodded, offering her a tiny smile.

"Wait. We need snacks," Penelope insisted, more to herself than Aaron.

"I'm fine," Aaron deferred.

"When you're watching a movie, you need snacks," she insisted playfully.

"Would you mind if I checked on the horses?" he asked.

"Awesome. There's sugar cubes in the bowl on the table, and carrot sticks in the fridge," she said, remembering Buttercup's love of vegetables and Pirate's sweet tooth. "Put some boots on and a jacket," she advised, watching him stop just short of the door dressed only in a tee shirt and sweatpants.

"Oh yeah," he said, and stepped into a pair of her boots and a long brown winter coat that Penelope found at a yard sale.

While Aaron was gone, Penelope got to work, pulling out her giant watermelon bowl and two mugs. She popped fresh popcorn and topped it with salt and melted butter. Then she went for the freezer, prepared to make root beer floats.

The sound of her cell clipped to her pajamas stopped her short. "Hello?" she asked, grateful when she saw Dave's number that Aaron was still outside.

"Penelope, it's Dave," he said, grief still heavy in his voice. "I'm on kid duty here, and Spencer's with Emily but I can't find Aaron. I left him here last night about this time, and he was here. Now there's no sign of him. He left a note saying he was with Haley and I called there, but they haven't seen him. Is there anywhere you can think of that he might have gone? I'm trying to think like a detective here, but my critical thinking skills aren't what they used to be," he finished, taking a deep breath.

"He's with me. He showed up a few hours ago. I think he meant to go to Haley's but it didn't work out. He's okay," Penelope reassured. "How are you?"

"Better now that I don't have to tell Emily that one of her kids is missing. Jesus, Penelope, he scared the life out of me."

"I would have had him call you. I just assumed you knew. I'm sorry."

"I'm fine as long as he's safe," Dave breathed. "So, I'll just let Emily know he's with you, so she doesn't worry."

"Sounds good. Take care, Dave," Penelope said, hanging up.

She braced herself against the counter. What did she think she was doing? What she _should _do is drive Aaron back to Virginia, but the look in his eyes stopped her short. Clearly, there was more going on than he was saying, and it said something that Dave was the first to call her, only missing Aaron twelve hours later. Emily had yet to call at all. Penelope figured that staying with JJ like she was, Emily might not even realize Aaron was missing. The thought that both Emily and Dave knew Aaron was hurt and didn't do anything about it infuriated Penelope. She knew her family was a wreck right now, but even in their worst moments, they were there for one another. What was happening now was unacceptable.

At twenty-six, Penelope didn't know the first thing about what to do to fix it, so she could imagine Emily in much the same mindset. The more she grew up, the more Penelope realized that the true mark of maturity was in admitting that you did not know as much as you once thought you did. So much of life was really just intelligent guesswork and being there for those you loved even when it was super hard and they pissed you off. She knew in her gut she was going to have to face her own guilt and feelings of failure sooner or later. She was going to have to face JJ, just like Emily was going to have to face the fact that she had four kids besides JJ.

Penelope took a deep breath. She took a step back mentally and considered everything. It was late, and Aaron was definitely exhausted. The kid needed a break, and he needed to tell her what was going on. Clearly he wouldn't do that if he felt pressured. So, the best thing Penelope could come up with was to let him hang out with her for a couple days. They'd figure things out, and then she'd take him back.

Stepping into her own boots and coat, Penelope made her way out into the cold February night. She walked out to the barn, after making sure that the cats were quarantined away from the treats inside. She found Aaron standing in front of Pirate quietly.

"You want to come back inside?" she asked gently.

"I'm sorry," he said, his breath a puff of white around him.

"Aaron, it's totally fine. Really. If you need me, I want you to feel comfortable coming to me." She approached him slowly, putting an arm around his back. "How'd you get out here anyway? You didn't hitch hike, did you?" she asked, keeping her tone light.

"Took a bus. I paid for it, don't worry," he said, choosing to miss her humor.

Penelope laughed, pulling him close, ignoring it when he didn't reciprocate any of her warmth. "You're the farthest thing from dishonest. I was just kidding. Now. Even though my sole purpose in life as your older sister should be to pump you for information, I'm going to try to hold back. For now, can you just answer one question for me, one-hundred percent honestly?"

"Okay," he said, and she could hear the hesitation in his tone.

"Who did this to you?" she asked, gesturing to his face.

There was a pause. It might have been just a breath, or a thousand years, for how long it seemed to Penelope.

"Spencer," he answered simply.

Penelope's eyebrows shot up, but she did her best to keep her shock hidden. Instead, she walked them both back inside. She set a root beer float and the giant bowl of popcorn beside Aaron's chair, since he'd barely touched supper, and Penelope curled up on the couch, wondering how on earth she could make this right for either one of them, and for her family, which was so incredibly shattered right now.

She wasn't dumb. Penelope knew she was going to have to start facing things soon enough. But for now, she'd simply do what she could. She would give her brother a place to rest and try to figure out the rest in the morning.

Penelope pressed play, and watched color fill the screen.

**A/N: We are potentially past the halfway point (depending on how many chapters this ends up being!) Finally catching up with Aaron and Penelope! I haven't forgotten about them! Also, several of you had really strong feelings after the last two chapters. I just want you all to know that the act of balancing so many characters is difficult, but a challenge I enjoy. Also, this is an ensemble piece, not focused solely on one character. But I love all of your investment and passion for this story and I continue to want to hear from you! So let me know! Thanks so much for reading!**


	18. Meeting

The sight of something so simple broke Emily down completely. The net over JJ's bed, like the one that had been there in the early days - to keep a thrashing JJ from injuring herself by keeping her contained. Emily had hoped never to see it again, but here it was.

Two steps forward, one step back.

Having Spencer with her meant Emily wasn't able to be there for each moment of each day. The Ronald McDonald house was great, but living three people to a very small room wasn't ideal. Plus, Spencer had developed a strange aversion to Derek, whom he used to adore. Spencer stuck close to Emily's side and refused to be anywhere she was not. Emily wished she could be there for JJ all the time, but it simply wasn't possible. As a single parent, she had to be where the greatest need was. Even though JJ was an adult, she clearly had the greatest need. Emily hadn't had a second thought about being there for her, until she stopped at home and saw Spencer pounding on Aaron.

"What's that for?" Spencer asked and Emily was beyond grateful that JJ wasn't zipped inside the net contraption now. Therapy must be happening.

"It's to keep JJ safe," Emily managed, around a lump in her throat. She spied Derek limping down the hall carrying two cups of coffee.

"Hey. Morning," he greeted.

"You couldn't keep her in bed?" Emily snapped irritably.

"Whoa," Derek blinked, taking a step back and handing Emily the second cup of coffee as a peace offering. "Just to keep you updated on the state of things here this morning, _nobody _could keep JJ in bed this morning. She's been real agitated, and it's gettin' worse, not better. It ain't my fault. Ask her doctor."

"You couldn't have brought _me_ coffee?" Spencer scoffed under his breath.

Emily sighed. She did not have the energy for this

"I'm not trying to be rude," Spencer amended. "I'm just saying. To overlook me is inconsiderate."

"Last time I checked, kid, you didn't like me very much," Derek pointed out. "Not to mention, you don't drink coffee."

"I would if someone brought me some!" Spencer objected. "And of course I _like _you. I'm just triggered by you."

"Great," Derek sighed, his shoulders slumping. "What the hell did I do to you?" he asked, keeping his voice even so as not to freak Spencer out even more.

"Nothing. But you're a football player," Spencer answered matter-of-factly. "Last time I was around football players, they hazed me. No, wait. _Hazing _would imply I was going through what I did because I wanted to join their team, and I clearly didn't want that…" Spencer mused, deep in thought.

"They hurt you," Derek said, his tone matter-of-fact, but sympathetic. "_They _hurt you, but I will never do that. Understand? Besides, with this knee, I'm done playin' football."

"Well, my body's still conditioned to fear you," Spencer said, shrugging and sticking close to Emily.

Emily stood still, listening as Spencer and Derek talked. She felt herself fraying at the edges. She couldn't do this much longer. She needed people. She wasn't super-human. Usually, she could count on Dave and Carolyn but with Carolyn gone and Dave grieving, Emily felt lost. She had taken them both for granted. They had been her cornerstones for the past three decades, but for the first time in her life, Emily knew she was going to have to figure out how to stand on her own. And honestly, she couldn't do this by herself. No one person could, and stay sane. She needed to delegate, or she would go crazy.

"Okay, family meeting," Emily announced suddenly. She took the boys on a detour to the fast food restaurant down on the main level of the rehab facility. Snagging Spencer to keep him from ordering French fries and a chocolate shake, Emily called Penelope and waited for her to pick up.

"Emily? I need to talk to you," Penelope said in a no-nonsense tone that Emily rarely heard.

"Me first," Emily insisted.

"We're having a family meeting and you're on speaker phone in the McDonald's," Spencer interjected. "Derek's here. Hey, Mom? What about JJ? She's family. Shouldn't she be here?"

"JJ's doing exactly what she has to do. I need the rest of you right now," she insisted. "Listen. This isn't working, you guys. Penelope and Derek, I really need both of you home right now. And _I _need to be able to split my time somehow between here and home. I can't keep living like this," Emily managed around a lump in her throat.

"Whatever you need," Derek nodded, sounding slightly shocked at Emily show of emotion.

"What can _I _do?" Spencer asked, eager to be included. He touched Emily's arm; a tentative show of comfort.

"You can do your schoolwork, and your chores and keep letting me know how you're doing," Emily managed.

"And helping JJ, right?" Spencer interjected.

"Right, but helping yourself comes first. JJ's helping herself first, so you need to do the same," Emily insisted.

He nodded, glad to be included.

"Penelope? Are you still there?" Emily asked.

"Take me off speaker phone," she responded seriously.

Emily took a deep breath to calm her fraying nerves and hit the button on her phone that kept the call reasonably private. "Derek, can you and Spencer give me a minute?" she asked.

"_Mom_," Spencer stage-whispered. "I just _said _I was triggered by being around Derek, and you're going to leave me with him?"

"Spencer," she managed, doing her best to stay calm. "I am right here. I just need a little bit of privacy. Go get fries and a shake. I think Derek has his wallet with him."

"Oh, sure. _Bribe _me," Spencer retorted sharply, but Emily sensed the hurt underneath. "I'm not four anymore, you know."

Emily made herself pause and look Spencer in the eye. She took both his hands firmly. "I'm sorry. What I mean is, I need a moment to speak with Penelope. You're more than welcome to sit beside me, though," she said, relieved when he took out the blue and white speckled composition notebook, which already looked well-used despite only being passed back and forth for a day or so. He started writing, his face screwed up in concentration.

"I'm here, Penelope," she sighed, spotting Derek at the counter ordering French fries and a shake for Spencer.

"Did you notice you're down a kid?" she asked, her voice shaking.

"JJ's in rehab now," Emily said, forcing herself to breathe through her irritation.

"I meant Aaron."

"Dave told me he's with you, Penelope. Things have been a little crazy around here, but trust me, I know where my kids are."

"He's not just _with me_, Emily!" Penelope exclaimed. "He _ran _here. Came with a backpack, and like, one change of clothes and an old granola bar. Dave didn't even know he was gone until, like, twelve hours had gone by! And you never even called to check on him! This can_not _happen! He is fifteen years old, Emily, and he showed up after taking a bus all day, looking like someone beat the crap out of him!"

"I'm dealing with that," Emily managed, her voice low and calm, despite her stress.

"Maybe on Spencer's end but sure as hell not on Aaron's! He won't talk to me. He's not eating like he should be. He said that you and Dave saw what happened and didn't think it was a big deal! I know you're dealing with a lot, but when _my brother _turns up on my front porch unannounced looking like crap, I'm not going to sit back and not say anything!"

"You have no idea what I'm dealing with," Emily said lowly, her temper finally showing around the edges of her words. "You have no idea because you left without anyone the wiser. You have no idea what it's like to be up here with your sister and trying to figure out how to put the _damn_ pieces of her back together again! You want to be treated like one of the family, Penelope, but when we needed to stick together, you ran. And no, you don't have biological ties to us. You aren't obligated to us in any way, but in every way that matters, you are my daughter! You have been since you were seventeen years old. I need you here, and I cannot handle your blame right now! Don't you think I'm doing that enough as it is? There are five of you and only one of me!"

"Then _ask_ for help, Mom! God! You're not superwoman!" Penelope exclaimed. "It's been four months! And I know I haven't been there like I should have been, but I will drop everything for you guys! I always have. Yeah, I've got the animals, but they can be cared for while I'm away." Somewhere in the midst of Penelope's anger, she had broken into tears.

Emily simply listened, tears filling her own eyes. She checked on Spencer who was still writing hurriedly and Derek was sitting at a nearby table with his leg elevated on a second chair. His attention was focused on his phone, and she imagined him texting friends from school.

"Yes, I left, but did you ever think just how painful all this was for me? I know the other kids are younger, but I still need you, too. Did you ever stop to ask how I was? How much it must've sucked for me to lose a grandmother and then almost lose my sister because she made a bonehead choice to drive drunk when that's what killed my parents? Some punk kid, angry at the world?! I am so angry at her right now, Mom… _That's _why I had to go, not because I wanted to leave you guys, and I'm totally willing to come back. I don't want to make your life anymore stressful than it is, but _I _need you, _too…_"

Emily was struck speechless momentarily, by Penelope's shift from using her first name to calling her mom. "I'm sorry," she managed, through tears of her own. "You don't have to visit JJ until you're ready, but can you please come home and be here for the boys? Derek will help. I'm moving us out of that Ronald McDonald house."

"How is she? JJ?" Penelope asked tentatively.

"Confused. Agitated. Her vision and her balance are both pretty badly affected, but she knows me on sight most of the time. It's hard for her to retain information. She still can't seem to hold onto the fact that Janet's not going to be visiting her, and likewise, that her dad can't hurt her anymore."

Penelope sniffed. "That totally sucks."

"Can I speak to Aaron?" Emily asked.

"He's sleeping."

"Okay, well, have him call me when he wakes up and bring him back with you in the next day or two, will you please?" Emily paused and forced the words, which were once so easy to speak past her lips. "Penelope? I love you."

"Love you, too," she said, sounding relieved to once again have a mother in her life.

Emily wished she could say the same, but the fact was, she couldn't. She could only be the kind of mother Carolyn had been for her. Steadfast and loving. Firm but fair. Those weren't the hardest aspects of being a mother, it was somehow sharing herself equally with the five people who needed her more than Emily had previously even guessed.

"What are you writing over there?" she asked, wiping her eyes and focusing on Spencer, who held a pen in one hand, and his chocolate shake in the other.

He pushed the notebook toward her, where she squinted to read the first few lines of miniscule printing:

_Dear Mom,_

_Last night I dreamed that I was tied up again. I know, logically, that dreams can't hurt me, but they do affect me. Help me not to be afraid, like you did when I was little…_

**A/N: Ooh, it felt good to have Penelope let Emily have it in this chapter. And I am so glad that Emily is realizing she can't be everything for everyone. Let me know what you guys think! I love reading your thoughts, as usual! On another note: The** **2012 PROFILER'S CHOICE CRIMINAL MINDS AWARDS ballot has been posted on the Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. Nominations are being accepted from September 1, 2012 – October 15, 2012. Please be careful to follow all the rules to make your nominations count.**


	19. Words

Aaron breathed deeply and woke up slowly. For the first time in days, he felt relaxed. It took him a second to place the small simple bedroom with the homemade bright pink quilt by Carolyn. When all the pieces fell into place, Aaron breathed a sigh of relief. He was still at Penelope's. Not at home. Not in danger.

He glanced at the clock, surprised that it was after noon, and walked soundlessly to find Penelope at her computer with her headset on, taking calls.

"Oh, no problem, ma'am! I can fix that for you in no time. I know. Windows can be so temperamental, but fear not. I am the high priestess of all things digital and I can recover that lost term paper, no sweat! …That just means I'm happy to help," Penelope amended.

Aaron watched, mesmerized, as Penelope worked on what was clearly someone else's computer. He watched her recover the missing document and advise its owner to save as she went, but welcomed her to call again if she needed anything at all.

"Morning," he said softly, when Aaron was sure she had hung up. "I was just wondering if I could use your shower?" he asked tentatively. He knew he had no business, especially considering he'd just used it last night, but he was nothing if not a creature of habit. As such, he showered each morning.

Penelope blinked, trying and failing to hide her surprise with a smile. "Of course, honey. I want you to feel comfortable here, and if two showers in eight hours is the key to your comfort then feel free."

"Thank you. And Penelope?"

"Yes?"

"Don't call me honey."

She laughed easily and he was grateful she took it as a joke.

He showered quickly, enjoying the interesting scents of her body wash and shampoo. So _that _was why she always smelled like apples… Aaron didn't mind smelling like them, too, for a day. He found it calming. When he returned to the kitchen, Aaron found omelets, hash browns and bacon on the table.

"Hungry?" Penelope asked with a gentle smile. "It's never too late for brunch."

"Not especially," Aaron admitted. But he took a piece of bacon in spite of himself. It smelled delicious. From beside him, Bagheera meowed loudly, clearly, wishing he were human. Aaron thought none-too-kindly that Bagheera looked like he had already enjoyed a few thousand slices of bacon.

"No more bacon for you," Penelope admonished, scooting the giant cat aside with her foot.

Aaron smiled a little. It figured that Penelope fed her cat real food. Who else would eat the leftovers? "Thanks for this," he said, really meaning it. It was part out of habit and part because even near a decade later, Aaron still remembered what it was like to go hungry.

He and Penelope ate in comfortable silence. Aaron looked out at the snowy landscape, remembering that this was exactly how it had looked outside when he first came to live in Reston, with Emily. The sight chilled him. All these years later, and Aaron still didn't like it when it snowed. He couldn't handle Christmas like a normal person. His mom got an artificial tree because he couldn't stand the scent of pine.

When Aaron was finished, Penelope invited him to sit with her in the living room. "Mom called this morning," she said, getting right to the point in a way he appreciated.

"What did she want?" Aaron asked, his tone measured.

"She wants me to move home for a while. She definitely wants you home. She says Derek's going to be there to help out, too, and that she's going to figure out a way to split her time between home and JJ."

Aaron sighed heavily.

"Honesty hour, okay? Seriously. As much as I want to, I can't read what's going on in your head," Penelope pressed. "Nothing's going to happen to you if you're honest with me. I'm not going to hurt you. So, come on. Out with it."

"If you take me back, I'll just run again," he said, staring at her and being careful not to break eye contact. She had to know he meant this.

"Why will you run? Talk to me about it," Penelope encouraged.

"Because!" Aaron exclaimed, louder than he meant to. "Mom promised me that in her house I'd never be hurt, and I believed her. It took years, but I bought into it! And now, just when I think I can feel comfortable speaking my mind there, Spencer goes crazy and starts hitting me and no one does anything? It's just like before," he crossed his arms, his attitude masking just how shaken he was by what had happened. "I mean, yes, Dave pulled him off me, and yes, Mom talked to him and tried to talk to me, but she didn't _do anything_!"

"If someone could do anything for you, to make you feel completely safe, what would it be?" Penelope wondered, as if she was only curious.

"_Protect me_ like Mom promised!" Aaron insisted. "I deserve to feel safe in my own home, and right now, I'm on edge all the time because I keep thinking that whenever Spencer gets home, he's just going to lose it again. I know it's stupid because he's a kid and I'm older, but…I don't know…" he trailed off. "My biological parents hated me, but want some new kid and it feels like the same thing's happening here. Mom took Spencer with her after he hurt me. She didn't take _me_ from the danger. It's like she rewarded him for hurting me. She picked Spencer over me just like my biological parents picked this other kid. It sucks that everyone gets to treat me however they want, and I'm no one's first choice for who to protect!"

Aaron forced himself to take a deep breath. He smelled Penelope's apple fragrance and the lavender and mango candles set around the living room. Once he felt reasonably calmer, he nodded at Penelope.

"First of all," Penelope said, her voice warm and calm. "You are absolutely my first choice for who to protect. Second of all, it's not stupid that you're afraid. It makes sense. Spencer totally broke the rules and hurt you and no one stopped it. But when you feel safe going home again, know that Derek and I will be in charge, and as far as I'm concerned, that kid's going to be under surveillance twenty-four-seven until he can prove he's trustworthy. Mom is working on her stuff, on being there more for all of us in the way we need. Spencer's working on himself. Derek and I are going to worry about things at home. Do you think you can work on trusting us again?"

"I guess… I don't want to go home yet, though…" he admitted.

"We won't go until you're one-hundred percent ready. Scout's honor," she promised, looking at him steadily. "I can tell you don't believe me. But will you let me prove it to you?" she asked.

"Yes, ma'am," he responded out of reflex.

"What's with the _ma'am_? You never _ma'am _me and you don't have to start now. You okay?" Penelope asked gently.

"It's habit. I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Hey. I've been around you a few years now, and I know that you get super-polite when you're freaked out. But you're totally okay here. You're safe. We're not leaving until you tell me you're ready. Okay? I'm not going to hurt you," she reminded him, and Aaron could have wept with relief.

His nerves were raw, and his heart felt like it might pound out of his chest. Finally, someone who listened to him. Finally, someone who cared enough to look beyond the surface of what he said or did. He tried to breathe, but it was difficult doing that and keeping his emotions in check at the same time.

"Can I give you a hug? Wait. The better question is, will you tell me no if you don't want one?" Penelope asked, her intuition working overtime.

"Yes, you can. And yes, I'd tell you…" he managed, staring at the dingy carpet under his feet. Peaches came and curled up at his side, and Aaron reached out to pet her.

Penelope came more slowly. She knelt in front of him and wrapped her arms around him. Even all this time later, hugs still had the potential to catch Aaron off-guard. They felt strange to him if he was in a certain mindset. He didn't reciprocate, but Penelope didn't seem to mind. She just held on. She didn't talk, which Aaron appreciated because he felt so frustrated by talking. Words didn't change anything. They just felt like a bunch of empty promises.

This was without a doubt, the longest hug Aaron had ever experienced, it lasted easily longer than sixty seconds. Every time he started to feel uncomfortable at its interminable length, Penelope would adjust something. A hand on his back would pat or rub small circles, and then Aaron was able to let the hug continue. He hadn't realized until this moment that he had all but forgotten what it felt like to be held.

By the time Aaron pulled away and wiped a hand across his eyes, he felt strangely full. Like he had been heard. Like he had been believed. He risked a glance at Penelope and saw her glasses were foggy with tears. For the rest of the day, Aaron hung out, playing an ancient game on Penelope's computer called Oregon Trail. She stopped by every so often to advise him on how many days to rest when his character SOMEbody, when SOMEbody got dysentery. His other characters had similarly insipid names. There was also a regular Somebody, a Nobody, a Whoever Wants It and, last but not least - Aaron's personal favorite - I Got This. He found strange headstones along the way. Marking the resting places of Ophelia, Juliet and - hilariously - Food Poisoning. Seeing that one, Aaron wondered if he and Penelope weren't somehow biologically related.

He played an entire game and got everyone where they were going safely. It kind of helped, in a way, to do something right. Even if it was only on a computer game. It was 4 pm by the time he gathered his courage and approached Penelope.

"I think I'm ready." he said.

"Awesome. Just give me a second to lock up. Game's pretty satisfying, isn't it?" she smirked.

"Most satisfying was seeing all your characters epitaphs," he joked.

"Oh, my God, I forgot about those! Whose did you see?" Penelope exclaimed.

In Penelope's tiny car on the way back to Virginia, she let Aaron regale her with entirely too many details about his time on the Oregon Trail.

In hour two of the five-hour journey, Penelope urged Aaron to pick some music from her I-Pod and play it for the journey home. After sifting through dozens of musical soundtracks - RENT, Wicked, Phantom of the Opera and more that Aaron was completely unfamiliar with, he finally settled on something. A song he'd never heard before, but one that grabbed him because of its title. He pressed play, and was instantly relaxed by the gentle guitar and the throwback it seemed to be to a simpler time. No one listened to folk music anymore. No one, that is, except Penelope.

And Aaron was shocked in the best way possible when she started harmonizing with the track, her voice confident, clear and impressive. Had he known Penelope could sing? He wasn't sure. Aaron fell into the melody - the lyrics were easy enough to pick up - and sang along imagining summer and warmth instead of the cold winter that surrounded him.

He wished this drive could go on forever. That he could take this feeling and bottle it, for when he needed it the most. That self-assurance that told Aaron that sometimes, promises were more than empty words.

And the belief that sometimes, words meant everything.

**A/N: First, the song Aaron and Penelope sing along to at the end is One Safe Place by Marc Cohn, which I love, and I think is totally appropriate for their road trip home. Hope you guys are still enjoying! I know I am! Feel free to let me know what you thought of Penelope and Aaron's time on the farm. Thanks to all of you for reading and for your support of this story!**


	20. Janet

Now that JJ was in speech therapy alone, it was a relief. Mom always wanted to be there, but it was distracting. It had been days since she backed off, and JJ felt like she could breathe. Mom, Spencer and Derek still visited, but not all the time and not during therapy. It was becoming a routine to be there alone, and do what needed to be done. She was improving, but not fast enough, by JJ's estimation. Every single thing still distracted her. She wasn't the only one in the room doing rehab. There were all kinds of people with head injuries. Some were doing better than she was, but a lot were worse. JJ couldn't stop noticing the noise around her, and that made it hard to focus on what she was doing.

"JJ, watch me." her speech therapist, Kim, prompted.

Irritated, JJ dragged her attention back to the huge picture in front of her. It was a window. She knew it. But when she was encouraged to finish the sentence "You open the…" JJ's brain kept failing her.

"Box," JJ said, and knew instantly it was wrong. She tried again, and the word "box" came over and over.

Tears filled her eyes. This sucked. It wasn't fair. She could think. She _knew_ this. She was finally awake enough to answer questions and she couldn't answer even one right.

When she heard, "You're doing great," JJ burst into tears. This woman obviously had pretty low expectations if what JJ was doing right now was great. "Try not to get frustrated…"

"Not working," JJ managed.

"No, I can see that…" Kim said, her tone sympathetic. "But you've come so far already. Listen, how about we change things up. Sing with me."

JJ was skeptical. Yeah, she had music therapy and yeah, it was less awful than the rest because she liked music, but it still sucked, because she had to do it. But Kim surprised her again by singing some weird song called _How Much is That Doggie in the Window_, which JJ was glad she didn't know, because Penelope's attraction to old, lame music was enough for one family. Of course, that thought had her missing Penelope, and missing Penelope made her miss Janet, though JJ wasn't sure why the two were so closely connected in her mind.

But JJ picked up the song quickly, even though it made her feel stupid. Somehow, she sang every word, even as tears tracked down her cheeks. Thankfully, speech therapy was her last requirement of the day, and that meant JJ could be left mostly alone. She was exhausted, but couldn't sleep. The thing over her bed made JJ feel trapped, even as she moved constantly to try to get comfortable.

Memories were coming back. Memories she didn't want. From before. Memories of her dad hurting her because she had an attitude. When he whipped her until her legs bled, he told JJ she was going to pay for ruining their family. JJ kicked and thrashed. She wished for something to take this away. But then she heard the words inside her head. The words she had remembered when Derek and Jordan visited, and tried to ignore ever since. JJ heard her dad screaming at her.

"_If it wasn't for you, Janet would still be alive!_" he said as he swung the belt.

JJ broke down sobbing, and when someone came, she said the only thing that she could manage.

* * *

><p>Derek was busy putting in some late afternoon gym hours to build up his knee. Jordan was here, acting as cheerleader and coach. She was good at it, too. Much better than Derek expected her to be.<p>

They'd been taking things slow. Just seeing how things went getting to know each other, but he quickly began to confide in her about things. Derek knew better than to get too crazy about her too fast. Anna, his trauma therapist for the past several years, gave him great advice. Where Derek would have chosen to err on the side of caution forever, Anna encouraged him not to close himself off to something great. She told him to be honest with Jordan about his need to take things slow, but not to be afraid about the possibility of opening himself up. So, he'd called her, knowing she was still in the area. Since she wasn't having any luck getting JJ used to her, Derek invited her to the gym.

He found himself grateful for the little things. How she dressed in sweats and a tee shirt instead of less than that. How she worked out right beside him, offered to help him, or just listened as he talked. He liked that it was just the two of them there.

"You know, it's been a while since my surgery but it's almost like it didn't happen," he said, wincing as he flexed his knee. "If not for this big damn scar, it might be a dream."

"Why?" Jordan asked, from an exercise bike beside him. "It's pretty traumatic, you'd think it'd be stuck in your mind, not the other way around."

He shrugged. "No one was around me for it. Emily was with JJ. Penelope was wherever, and the boys are too young. So…"

"Seriously?" Jordan asked, incredulous. "Not one person in your family came? None of your friends?"

"Most of my friends are in Chicago," he elaborated.

"Well, if I'd known you, I'd have come," Jordan said, looking him in the eye. "Nobody should have to go through what you did alone."

"No big deal," he shrugged. "It's not like I'm dealing with what JJ is."

"Yeah, but you don't have to compare the two. What she's going through is terrible, but it doesn't change the fact that you deserved to have someone there. Did they come after?"

Derek's phone rang, playing a jarring melody, and he reached to pick it up. "Hello, this is Derek," he said seeing the unfamiliar number. "Yes. No problem, I can do that. She'll be there as soon as possible."

"What's up?" Jordan asked softly. "Is everything okay?"

Derek held up a hand and punched a button on his phone, grateful that Penelope and Aaron had shown up earlier in the week. Things weren't great at home, and it was kind of depressing being there, but at least they were together. At least they were looking out for each other, like they should have been all along.

"Is the world ending?" Penelope's voice asked comically at the other end of the call. "You never call me unless it's super urgent, and-"

"Penelope, JJ needs you. I got a call from DC. I'm still at the gym and I can be home in five to take over for you."

"Should I send Mom?" Penelope hedged.

"She asked for _you_," Derek pressed gently. "They said she was pretty upset. I'm leaving now," he said and hung up.

* * *

><p>The drive to DC was the longest half-hour Penelope had ever spent. Traffic was horrid, but she still managed to get there in a decent amount of time. It had been a last second decision to take Peaches home with her and Aaron on Sunday night, and now she was glad for the impulse. Nothing like a cat to bridge potential awkwardness. And if anyone took issue with Peaches being there, tough cookies for them.<p>

She took deep breaths, as she walked, with Peaches zipped into a carry on style bag. It was ventilated so Penelope didn't feel too terrible, and Peaches was a perfect stowaway. She never made a peep. This was probably for the best - seeing JJ like this - because it was spur of the moment and Penelope had literally no time to try and talk herself out of it.

By now, she could hear JJ, and the sound made the hair raise up off her arms. She hadn't known her sister could sound so upset. Penelope steeled herself, preparing herself for the large tent-style thing over JJ's bed. She'd been warned about that, but by all intents and purposes, JJ had made great strides this week. Penelope wondered what had set her back.

Tears came to Penelope's eyes, watching JJ toss and turn. She unzipped the bag and set Peaches down on the chair for visitors. Then, Penelope bravely let herself into JJ's tornado of emotions.

"Hey, it's Penelope," she said gently, curling up beside JJ and wrapping her arms around her. For a good measure, Penelope threw a leg over her too. "It's Penelope, Jaje. You're okay."

She tried, but JJ arched her back and fought. She wept like her heart was breaking. It was all Penelope could do to keep hold of her. It took several long minutes for it to register to JJ that anyone else was there, or that she was being held. Even when she was lying still, JJ's legs still kicked. She kept sobbing, in a way that made Penelope want to turn tail and run the other way. But she stayed. JJ needed her. And Penelope was done running.

"Whatever it is, I promise, I'll help, okay?" Penelope reassured. "Try to take a deep breath. Can you tell me what's wrong."

"Janet died…" JJ managed after a long pause. "Right?"

"That's right. She did," Penelope told her honestly. Sadly. It had to be the worst thing ever to lose your loved one a second time.

"And it's…my…fault…" JJ pushed, her voice heavy with emotion.

"No, honey. It's not your fault at all. She died because things got too sad _for her_. It was nothing you said. It was nothing you did. Okay?"

"My dad…" JJ gasped, wincing and Penelope had to work to keep up with the subject change.

"What about your dad?"

"Emily sent me…back…and he used to…hit me. My legs would bleed…He'd hit me with his belt… He said…Janet died because of me…" JJ managed, her voice breaking again.

Penelope pursed her lips. There was so much to take in. In all the years JJ had been living with Emily, Penelope was sure she'd never mentioned how she'd gotten the numerous scars on her legs, and to know that she got them after being returned to her father made Penelope so angry. But the important thing here was JJ. It was correcting her dad's selfish words and hopefully healing some of the damage done to her.

She moved so she could look JJ in the eyes. "What your dad said to you about your sister isn't true. Her dying was not your fault. You were just a little girl."

"But he was right…about her being…dead. So he's right about this, too…" JJ insisted.

"No, he's not right about this, too. He's wrong. He said that to you because he was feeling bad about himself, okay? He was looking for someone to blame, and you happened to be there."

For a while, JJ just stared at her, and Penelope wished she could read her mind.

"I keep thinking…my dad's here…and mad at me…" JJ confessed.

"Well, he's not," Penelope told her firmly. "If he was, I'd have him kicked out of here so fast he wouldn't know what hit him. Just try to relax."

JJ smiled a little, and silence fell around them. For a while, Penelope simply watched the tears dry on JJ's cheeks. She tried to think of why on earth she'd let anger and bitterness keep her away from her sister when she needed her so much.

When JJ spoke, after a long silence, it confused Penelope yet again.

"Breaking the rules," she said, and she smiled a little, looking past Penelope.

Turning, Penelope remembered Peaches, still calmly watching them from the visitor's chair. She'd forgotten how much JJ's vision was improving. "Yeah, I guess I am," Penelope admitted. "But I thought you could use a friend who wouldn't frustrate you or ask you questions all day."

"Come here. Come on," JJ urged, her voice softening in a way Penelope doubted it had since the accident.

"If you can stay really calm, I can put Peaches the Wonder Cat in here with us. What do you think?"

JJ nodded, sitting admirably still.

So Penelope carried Peaches over and set her in JJ's lap. Just as Penelope hoped, she watched the tension ease out of her sister as she ran her hand over Peaches' soft fur.

"Missed you," JJ said, and though it sounded pretty robotic - and Penelope couldn't be sure if JJ was talking to her or the cat in her lap - Penelope recognized the importance of the sentiment. In Penelope's own extensive research, she learned that emotions were pretty foreign to JJ, and that she might have to relearn them all over again.

"I missed you, too," Penelope admitted, feeling, for once, like she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

**A/N: Finally some JJ! And I'm so glad that Derek's got Jordan to help him through his recovery. And yay for Peaches the Wonder Cat and Penelope for visiting JJ! Can't believe there are only 12 chapters left!**


	21. Inch

_Dear Spencer, _

_I'm sorry it has taken me a few days to write back to you, but I want you to know that I haven't forgotten about you or the promise I made to you. I understand that dreaming about being hurt again is very scary. I'm so sorry you've been reliving that. Sometimes, I have bad dreams, too. Something that helps me is to think about it like this: nightmares are the way our subconscious deals with trauma. It's our brain doing its best to get rid of the bad memories that haunt us. So, while it is definitely scary, try to reframe it in a new context and see if that helps. Also, you're always welcome to wake me up if you need to talk, or for comfort. That's what I'm here for._

_To close, I have a few questions to ask you. Feel free to answer them or not. There is no pressure. Just know I am asking because I love you and I want to know how you're doing._

_What is your favorite thing you and your mother, the literature professor, did together?_

_If you feel ready, will you describe your anger? What do you wish you could say or do to the people who hurt you on the football field?_

_What is your current favorite food?_

_When you feel powerless, how do you cope?_

_Name a positive memory that you have associated with each person in our family?_

_Love, Mom_

* * *

><p><em>Dear Mom,<em>

_I like reading your thoughts about nightmares. It is nice to know I am not the only one who has them. It is also helpful to think about the fact that I have a healthy subconscious that's doing its job even while I am sleeping. I still don't feel comfortable waking you up at night because I know you don't get a lot of sleep anymore and adults need at least seven hours of sleep a night to feel at their best and you have not had that for a long time._

_I will now answer your questions._

_1) My favorite thing my mother, the literature professor, and I did together was reading, As I stated in my consequence letter to you, I could read from the age of three, but I always very much enjoy being read to. If you would like to read together, I would be willing to do that. Perhaps we can each make a list of some books we especially enjoy? I would like to share that activity with you and I don't think my mother, the literature professor, would mind. _

_2) My anger is quick and strong and red. It makes me feel paralyzed. I said all I wished to say to the football players on the field that day. I just wish they had listened to me. Sometimes I think up revenge fantasies about what I might do to them if I ever grew bigger and stronger than I am now. But then I think about how they are bigger and stronger than me, and how much damage they did to me, and it doesn't sound like a good idea to perpetuate violence because I was hurt. At least, that's what my counselor is helping me see._

_3) My current favorite food is actually the combination of chocolate shakes and French fries. I love the combination of sweet and salty. You should try it sometime. Maybe let JJ try it, too?_

_4) When I feel powerless, I don't cope. I react. It is something I am trying to work on in counseling. If I feel threatened, instead of ignoring it or lashing out physically, I am working on acknowledging it. Anger and powerlessness are interconnected for me, so I work on going through my trauma, feeling triggered, and breathing through the feelings. I try to count my feelings down like I used to, but that feels slightly primitive. She (my counselor) also tries to convince me to raise my voice. To scream and really express myself, but it's as if my lips are glued shut. I screamed before and no one heard me. I screamed until I was hoarse and it did no good. It just made me feel more terrified. So I've been trying. But so far, nothing's come out._

_5) I can only do one positive memory right now and I hope that's okay. A positive memory that I associate with Derek is that he noticed that I was in trouble before anyone else. He's always been like that. Very attentive. I appreciate that very much about him and I feel discouraged that I can't seem to be around him without feeling physiological signs of stress._

_Please don't write me back about my answers to questions two, four or five. I just want to know you read them, that's all. It was very cathartic to write, but I don't think I can handle anyone else's reaction to my most personal thoughts. Thank you for the intriguing balance of positive and negative, past and present, in your questions to me, though. That was very helpful. When I think of some questions, can I ask you?_

_Love, Spencer_

* * *

><p>Spencer stuffed the notebook into his mom's giant purse, just as he did every time it was her turn to write in it. When it was his turn, she stored it in his school bag. So far, writing was working pretty well for getting his thoughts across, and he liked reading what his mom wrote back to him and having concrete proof that she had paid attention to his words.<p>

Now, it was after dinner, and that meant it was time for their mom to visit JJ again. Spencer had to stay home and do schoolwork, and chores because he was still on restriction. It was a boring existence but at least, with Penelope and Derek home, it was a little more interesting. They had totally opposite philosophies. She was very laid back where Derek was uptight about things like chores and keeping the house going the way it should be. Sometimes, Spencer just liked to watch them disagree. They even fought over what to have for dinner. Penelope was insisting they order something and Derek was equally adamant that they finish the leftovers.

"Derek, those leftovers? They've probably been in there for _weeks_. They're not going to be any good. I promise."

"Oh, come on," he scoffed, "Leftover spaghetti's always good!"

"Not if it's _mold_ is growing mold!" she shouted back, taking the container from his hands. "If you want to do us a favor, clean the fridge out later, I'm sure Spencer can help you."

"Hey! I didn't volunteer!" Spencer objected. Mold was disgusting, even if it was intriguing.

"We got food here," Derek maintained.

"Yes, and it's old. So, let me order pizza and be done with it. I don't even know why I'm arguing with you when I'm the oldest," Penelope grinned, grabbing her cell and punching the number that was on the refrigerator magnet.

She ordered two large pizzas and Spencer crouched in front of the open refrigerator skeptically.

"Spencer, don't mess with that right now, all right? Wait 'til after dinner," Derek advised.

"Well, what do I do now? I did all my homework and I'm not allowed to go on the computer for fun."

"Go play outside," Penelope encouraged.

"It's _winter_," Spencer shot back.

"Gabe and Jack got a bunch of kids running around next door. Go hang with them," Derek suggested, speaking of the pair of seventh graders who had lived next door for as long as he could remember.

"Gabe and Jack Taylor are twin terrors," Spencer muttered, even though they were the farthest thing from it. "They're having some primitive snowball war. Gabe's the strength and Jack's the strategy. It's always two against one and it's never fair."

"Sounds to me like you and Jack could pair up and become one giant mega brain," Penelope smiled. "Jack Taylor's a smart kid. I already bought tons of cookie dough for their boy scout troop because he was so convincing. And Gabe laid on the guilt about Mr. Rossi not buying any this year, and how that really hurt their sales because he was usually their best customer."

Like clockwork, there was a knock at the door. Gabe Taylor stood on the front steps, his cheeks bright red from the cold, blond hair in his eyes, and braces glinting as he grinned. "Hey, Spencer! Do you and Aaron want to play? We're getting our butts kicked out here!"

Spencer fought not to roll his eyes. It was painfully obvious in moments like these just how little he had in common with other kids his age. He didn't know the first thing about snowball wars or what kids his age actually did together. Plus, Gabe and Jack went to public school. So, that automatically made Spencer distrustful.

"Jack's at the base, holding them back with our supply of ready made snowballs, but the neighborhood kids are really tough competition. Oh, hi Derek! Hey, Penelope! Do either of you guys want to come help us defend our snow fort?"

Spencer peered over Gabe's shoulder into the distance. There was tiny, pale Jack, bundled in winter gear. He threw snowballs with the precision of a mathematician, but clearly, he didn't have enough power. He was the opposite of his brother in every way. But they _were_ friendly enough.

"No, thanks, bud. Maybe next time," Derek said easily. "But Spencer could play with you guys until our pizza gets here. Then, what do you say? You and Jack wanna come and eat with us?"

Gabe's smile grew even wider. "I'll have to ask our mom, but I'm sure she'll say yes. Come on, Spencer! We need you! You're the only one who can help us!"

Spencer smiled a little. It felt good to be needed. He threw on snow pants, a coat, a face mask, gloves and boots and shouted to Jack that reinforcements were on their way.

"Hold your position!" Spencer shouted, and dove into the snow fort.

"I'm getting destroyed out here!" Jack gasped. "What took you so long?" he asked turning accusatory eyes on his brother.

"Spencer didn't wanna come at first. But I convinced him. And Derek invited us for pizza," Gabe grinned, throwing snowballs according to Jack's exact specifications.

"Okay," Jack said, breathless. "I have a plan. Spencer, I need you to take over relaying the coordinates to Gabe. I'm going to sneak over there and see how much of a supply they have left."

"Won't you need a diversion?" Spencer asked, more into this game than he ever imagined.

"Oh, right. Gabe, go be a diversion," Jack directed, waving a hand at his brother.

"Okay! Wait. What is that?" Gabe asked, looking comically confused.

"Do something to distract them," Spencer explained. "So they won't see Jack spying on them."

Spencer found himself laughing hysterically at the sight of Gabe drawing the other kids' attention, by shouting, "Hey, you guys!" and then trying to dodge every snowball, in an athletic and unexpected manner.

When Penelope called the three of them inside to eat, Spencer promised Gabe and Jack he would always be on their team. If they ever needed him, all they had to do was stop over.

* * *

><p>Aaron sat quietly, watching Spencer and the Taylor boys talk animatedly about some kind of battle strategy. Gabe and Jack were good kids, but it was no secret that Aaron still didn't trust Spencer. Penelope and Derek had done well so far, at keeping their eye on Spencer, but Aaron couldn't shake his nerves.<p>

After dinner, when Spencer, Gabe and Jack convinced Derek and Penelope to join them in their snow fight, Aaron offered to stay in and start cleaning up. No, he insisted, he didn't mind at all. Cleaning was relaxing. But the minute the door closed behind them, and Aaron heard a rebel yell from Penelope he got to work. He put plates in the sink. He wiped the table. He swept the floor. But in between each task, he went to the refrigerator and quickly and silently removed a container among the Tetris of containers, which he then rushed to his bedroom.

It made him feel terrible. Out of control and frighteningly in control all at once, and he wasn't exactly sure why he was doing this, only that he had to. It was the food they were planning to throw away anyway, so Aaron was hoping they wouldn't miss it.

He glanced out the window, and saw the three youngest boys forming some kind of perimeter around Derek, so he could move slowly to their fort without being hit by any snow. Aaron wished he could join in. But he had never been that kind of person.

Instead, he kept doing what he felt he had to do. He cleaned the kitchen to the point of spotlessness, like he had for Dave, and he hid away the leftovers in his room, hoping no one would miss them.

**A/N: Gabe and Jack Taylor are original characters, and are here based on a suggestion from musewars that Spencer should have some friends his age to play with. Thoughts on them? Their influence on Spencer? Spencer and Emily's notebook? Penelope and Derek? Aaron? Look for some more in depth Derek and Penelope in tomorrow's update. Thanks again to everyone who reads, reviews, favorites, alerts, etc. You're all super-appreciated!**


	22. Under

Derek didn't come in from outside. Instead, he asked if Penelope could handle things until Emily got home later that night. Then, he got in the car and started driving. His intent was to go to the gym and work out. His intent was to call Jordan and finish the conversation they started. Instead, he found himself driving the opposite direction, for miles, until he found the tree JJ crashed into. Then, he stopped. There was still evidence of what had happened less than two months before. The tree, most obviously, was scarred from the impact of the car.

He couldn't stop himself from staring at it. Couldn't stop himself from thinking back to the accident and then to the day of his surgery, just days afterward. He remembered how Penelope had risen early and driven him to the hospital. They hadn't talked. She hadn't stayed, because he told her it wasn't necessary. So, Derek filled out and signed the various forms. He dealt with anxiety and his fear of hospitals by blocking it off. He had no business thinking of several years back, as a kid, recovering after he went back to the life he never wanted in the first place. It shook him to really think about that time, so he convinced himself not to focus on it. And it worked, for a while. He played Angry Birds on his cell phone, as he waited to get taken back for his operation. All the time, he'd been waiting for a call from Emily, since Derek told her he was scheduled to go in at eight o'clock that morning and she assured him that she was keeping odd hours with JJ, and would be sure to call before and after.

But eight o'clock came and went, and Derek was wheeled down to surgery hearing nothing from his mom. He tried to convince himself it didn't matter. Tried to tell himself that he didn't mind because she was there for JJ, and JJ obviously needed her more than Derek did. But she had given her word, and hadn't followed through. And that left Derek to steady his own breathing as he watched the lights overhead on the way to the operating room. That left Derek fighting the anesthesiologist when he put the mask over Derek's face. The overwhelming stench of fumes and the paralyzing numbness had been too much for him. He was too exposed like this, in just a gown. Sure, he knew logically, they'd be fixing his knee and he needed to be asleep for that, but Derek hated how a handful of years later, he was still left wondering what else they'd do to him while he was drugged. He hardly had time to think about anything, or to register the voice above his head that tried to calm him down, before his eyes fell closed.

The next thing he knew, Derek was awake. His knee had a constant ache that was barely masked by painkillers. He listened vaguely as the surgeon talked about how there was more damage to his knee than they were able to detect on the MRI. His ACL had to be repaired, of course, but also, various smaller ligaments that had been torn apart that October day at practice.

For hours, he waited for Emily to remember him. To call just to ask how it went. But no one did. And when he called home to ask Penelope for a ride he discovered she had left during the day. The Barrett-Mackeys were there instead, and Nate offered to drop everything on a dime and drive over to pick up Derek. It was okay. But it wasn't the same.

Derek felt sluggish and vulnerable those first twenty-four hours and turned away Nate and Cary's constant attempts to help. Aaron and Spencer made themselves scarce, and Emily was never around. The following morning, when he woke in so much pain it brought tears to his eyes, it took all of Derek's self-control not to overdose on the painkillers he had been prescribed out of necessity. They sat beside him, on the little table next to the couch, because he positively was not going to rely on anybody to give him anything.

He blinked, focusing on the tree in front of him again. Then, he pulled out his phone and stared at it. Jordan came to mind first, but he didn't know her well enough for anything like this. Penelope was next, but Derek knew, firsthand, how difficult it was keeping Spencer occupied and Aaron from isolating himself. Plus, he found himself thinking bitterly, she left after dropping him off at the hospital. He scrolled through the numbers on his phone multiple times before finally highlighting Anna Peterson and pressing the send key.

Anna, to this day, was the only person who had never let him down. She wasn't even technically his trauma therapist anymore, since she only worked with adolescents and he hadn't qualified for the better part of a year. Now, she took his calls free of charge, and just listened. She had earned his trust years ago, when she was brand new to her field, due, in large part, to her willingness to be completely herself. Awkwardness and all. She'd been in her mid-twenties then and had, at times, seemed as uncomfortable around Derek as he was around her. But her combination of honesty and consistency caused a shift in Derek. At thirteen, he started to trust her, and at twenty, she remained the only person he could be completely honest with, who would listen, who meant it when she said that he was a priority and she would listen whenever he needed someone to talk to.

"Anna? It's Derek. Sorry to call so late," he said, belatedly glancing at the time and realizing it was now close to midnight.

"Derek? Are you okay?" she asked.

"Not really. This is kinda the first chance I've had to breathe in months…"

On the other end of the call, Derek heard silence and knew she was listening. It was like that when he was younger, too. She always let him take the lead and say what he needed to say without interrupting or reading things into what he was saying that weren't there.

"I'm at JJ's accident site," he admitted. "And it made me think of my knee surgery. Not one of my family showed up for me then, did you know that?"

"No, I didn't," she answered, her tone soft and sympathetic.

"So, anyway, I was just kinda thinking about that…and it didn't really hit me 'til I got here and started really thinking about it, but I…I don't think I've been honest with myself about stuff ever since I got hurt."

He paused for so long that Anna filled it. "What kind of stuff?" she asked.

"Forget it, I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry," he apologized. He was half a second from hanging up when Anna's voice stopped him short.

"I'm happy you called. Really. Reaching out is a good thing. Wherever you are in your head, just know it's okay. We can talk about it or not. I won't push you either way."

Derek let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. "I just feel like I've been everything for everybody for the longest time, you know? But no one ever gives it back. And when they try, I just close up. Honestly, JJ and this girl, Jordan, are the only two people who have even asked how I'm doing in like, what? Almost two months? JJ's got a head injury and Jordan's so new to everything she doesn't even know what she's gettin' into, askin' that question…."

He fell silent a moment, thinking.

"It's like, I've lived the last two months the way I lived before I came to Emily's. I've just become whoever it is she wants to see, or anyone else in the family needs me to be. It's a mask. It's walls. It's a _part I'm playin_' just like when I was a kid and did what I had to do to survive!" Derek swallowed convulsively and blinked back angry tears that sprang to his eyes.

"Maybe you've felt like you were in a kind of self-preservation mode lately with your family? Maybe you coped the only way you could? What do you think?" Anna asked diplomatically.

"I think I don't wanna _feel_ like this! Like a _thing_ just doin' a _job_!"

"Is that how you feel?" Anna pressed. "Like a thing doing a job?"

Derek didn't let himself think. He didn't let himself censor his thoughts. He just said what came to his mind. The very first thing. "Yeah," he said softly. "It was like, I don't know… I went off to have my knee worked on and then I came back and immediately Spencer needed me, and Mom needed me and JJ needed me. People tried to help some when I was recovering, but I wouldn't let it happen."

"Can I ask you something? You don't have to answer if you don't want to," Anna reassured.

"Yeah. Ask," Derek said, his voice betraying little emotion.

"What's the alternative to feeling like a thing doing a job?" she asked, voice steady, but still gentle.

Again, Derek didn't let himself think. Talking with Anna was one of the few opportunities he had in his life where it was better to speak first and think later. She wanted honesty, and if he thought too much, he'd inevitably give her a half-truth, or no truth at all.

"Feeling preyed upon. Feeling weak. Feeling vulnerable," Derek admitted, his tone hard.

"Is it fair to say that through the course of having your surgery and not having your family come through for you, you've felt preyed upon, weak or vulnerable?" Anna guessed.

"Yeah."

"I think what you're feeling makes sense. I also think it's up to you what you do next. You didn't have control when you were a child. You didn't have anyone who would listen to you. But you do have that now, Derek. You have a voice and it matters and you're completely entitled to share your feelings if it's something you decide you want to do."

"Yeah, but Mom's already guilty enough. What with Carolyn and JJ…then Spencer went crazy on Aaron and she's trying to find time for them, too, and so far, she's only managing to be there for a couple of us at a time. I'm not saying I _blame_ her. I'd probably be there for JJ, too, if it were me, but she's gonna take it as me blaming her."

"You can't control her reaction, but you can control who you tell and how much you share," Anna pointed out. "And honestly, Derek, if you don't open up to your family, you're kind of giving your trauma the green light. I don't want to be mean or anything, I'm just saying, you have the power here. You're an adult now. You're not ten or twelve or fourteen. If you don't want to talk to your mom, talk to Penelope. Talk to Jordan. Give people the chance to actually be there for you instead of writing them off before they can."

"Ouch," Derek said, feigning hurt. He smiled a little.

"Was that too much?" Anna asked suddenly, regret in her voice.

"You always did know how to kick my ass," Derek said warmly. "Thanks, Anna, for talking to me."

"Anytime," she said, and Derek knew she meant it.

* * *

><p>It was after one in the morning by the time Derek walked in the house. It was quiet, but a voice startled him from the couch.<p>

"I don't know very much about gyms but I doubt they're open in the wee hours of the morning." Penelope.

Derek found himself sighing. "I wasn't at the gym. Where's Mom?"

"Asleep. She came home, read the start of this ridiculously long book with Spencer and tried to talk to Aaron. He wasn't crazy about the idea," she admitted, the look on her face letting Derek know she was thinking back to an unpleasant exchange.

"I know the feeling." It was out of Derek's mouth before he could think better of it. Talking to Anna had loosened his tongue a little too much. "Penelope? Could I talk to you?"

"Of course. Why else do you think I waited up for you?" she asked, patting the seat beside her.

"I was just thinkin' about my surgery," he confessed. "And how it kind of sucks that no one was there for it."

"You told me to go," she remembered, confused.

"Yeah, well, that's when I thought Mom would at least call to check in," Derek said softly.

Penelope's mouth dropped open. "You've been running yourself ragged helping her, and she wasn't there for you."

"JJ was still in a coma…and…" he started out.

"I don't care if JJ was on the moon, Derek. She should have called. And I shouldn't have left. I just assumed she'd be there for both of you."

"Well, she wasn't. And it's fine. You don't have to apologize," Derek added.

"Of course I have to apologize!" Penelope hissed, doing her best to keep her voice down in spite of all her emotions. "It's _ridiculous_ that none of us were there for you! How are you doing?"

"Not the best," he admitted, studying the wall across from them instead of her face.

"Listen. I am so sorry I wasn't there. I'm sorry I didn't insist on staying and being there for you. I have no excuses. There _is _no excuse for that," Penelope insisted. "Can I do anything to help? Seriously. Anything. You name it and I will do it."

"There _is _one thing…" Derek said quietly, meeting her eyes.

"Okay. Awesome. Whatever it is, I'm all over it," Penelope agreed.

"Treat me like a person?" he asked and read confusion all over her face. "I just mean, talk to me about more than logistics. Who's where. What needs to be done. I just…need to feel human…if that makes sense."

"Absolutely," Penelope answered, her voice breaking. She reached out to take his hand, but stopped just short, allowing Derek to make the final decision about whether or not to hold her hand.

When he didn't move, she didn't either.

"You're struggling," she said simply.

Derek nodded, without words.

"Me, too," she said softly.

**A/N: Not exactly how I envisioned this chapter yesterday, but I'm still glad Derek talked to someone. And if he needed Anna to ease him into talking to Penelope then I am all for that. Also, I'm obviously not a trauma therapist so please don't take Anna's words as gospel. And last but not least, I really do appreciate every single one of you. I probably don't say that enough but you guys are great and I am loving sharing this story with all of you!**


	23. Vision

Aaron was supposed to be sleeping. He had school tomorrow. But he kept waking up. For once, it wasn't because he was having nightmares, but because he could hear Spencer having them down the hall. He wasn't as loud as Derek used to be, but still, he was loud enough to wake Aaron, who slept lightly on his best night.

Because he couldn't sleep now, Aaron got up and walked down the hall toward Spencer's room, stopping just short of the door. It took him a second to register that Derek was there, too.

"You okay?" Derek asked softly.

"Yeah, he just woke me up," Aaron admitted quietly.

"You sure?"

From behind the door, Spencer cried out again, his voice sounding strangled and terrified as he screamed for them to stop.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Aaron reassured. "I can go wake him up if you want."

"You're afraid of him," Derek said, no judgment in his tone, just fact.

"_He's _afraid of _you_," Aaron shot back quietly.

"Fear not, gentlemen. Penelope the Sleep Deprived is on the case," Penelope announced softly as she padded down the stairs. "I rigged up the old walkie-talkies so I can hear him," she supplied, seeing their confusion. "How are you both?" she asked, looking at each of them in the dim hallway light.

"Goin' to bed," Derek said in answer, and that was good enough for Aaron.

"Me, too," he echoed.

"Good night," Penelope told them, kissing the fingertips of one hand and pressing them first to Aaron's forehead and then to Derek's.

Aaron walked away before the kindness in the gesture could register, stealing upstairs under the pretense of being hungry. He wasn't really. Not now. But he might be sometime. So, he grabbed a couple of bananas from the bowl of fruit that was always kept on the table, and darted back downstairs. Closing his bedroom door, Aaron lay on his stomach and reached beneath his bed to store them. It didn't take him long to realize that bananas were a bad idea. They wouldn't keep. But they'd be okay for a day or so until he could replace them and take something else instead.

Looking at the sheer volume of food he'd managed to collect over the past several days made him feel simultaneously satisfied and sickened. This was _so weird_. He'd done it as a kid occasionally, but not for many years. He didn't take the food to eat it. He wasn't even really hungry. It was just sort of wired in him to do when things got really screwed up in his head. It made him feel better to know that there was food at arm's length, even if he was in bed.

He fell asleep without knowing, and dreamed he was being chased down the street by giant pig, that looked like it was an escapee from the Virginia State Fair. In the dream, Aaron was sure the pig was about to get revenge on him for taking all the food, but Aaron woke up just after throwing bananas to distract it.

As usual, he didn't wake up with an alarm. He rose a half an hour before, showered, dressed, and brought the bananas with him to set on the table, with no one the wiser.

* * *

><p>Emily was never more grateful than to get into a routine that included getting at least six uninterrupted hours of sleep a night. Finally, she was starting to wake refreshed. She was making an effort to go to her art studio again, and stare at blank canvas, contemplating how to document what was going on, as much as to figure out a way to get it out of her so she wasn't always so stressed. If she was at her best, then she could be at her best for her kids. And it was clear that they all needed her.<p>

After closing her eyes, and taking a deep breath, she began. After painting for ten minutes straight, Emily stared at what she created in shock. She had painted a giant eggshell, cracked open, and overflowing with all manner of creatures. In half of the shell, a tiger, a rabbit and an owl watched each other openly. A mother bear was trying to balance on the fractured edge of the other half of the shell to tend to the butterfly emerging slowly from its cocoon. Water was spilling out, and the bear's perch was precarious at best. Through the transparent shell, Emily could see the outline of a familiar fish.

Of course.

She had painted her children, and herself. Derek, the fierce tiger. Penelope, the rabbit, quiet and quick. Spencer, the wise owl. Emily, the mother bear. JJ, the butterfly. And Aaron, the viperfish.

There was a tap on the door, and Emily glanced up, smiling as Penelope entered with two cups of coffee.

"Hey. Morning. Whoa. That's some amazing looking zoo. I bet whoever laid that egg was surprised," Penelope said and smiled good-naturedly at the canvas. Emily could see dark circles under her eyes and motioned her to sit.

"Thank you," Emily said, taking the coffee and sipping it slowly.

"No problem," Penelope responded.

"You look tired. Did you sleep all right?" Emily asked.

"I was up with Spencer for a little bit," Penelope yawned.

"Oh no… Nightmare?" Emily winced. "I'm so sorry. I assumed I would have heard him."

"It's totally okay. He really digs your interpretation of the subconscious and the idea that his is working so well. At least, he was once he calmed down, and realized I wasn't one of those high school jerks. Then, it was pretty awesome. We traded revenge fantasies…" she confided, with a grin.

"Penelope," Emily warned, clearly worried. She hadn't commented on Spencer's remark about revenge fantasies in a recent notebook entry, honoring his wishes. Now she wondered if it was the right thing to do.

"Oh, don't worry. They were heavy on the fantasy, light on the revenge. Mine involved hacking the phones of Spencer's high school goons in such a way that they were totally destroyed and sending out a mass warning to all the cell phone stores that these kids on a lifetime ban from technology because they used it inappropriately. Spencer's included them being a giant two-headed monster. Spencer had the honor of zapping them with his wand and shrinking them into virtual nothingness. Since there's no such thing as complete nothingness, because everything is energy…" Penelope rattled on.

"What?" Emily asked, shaking her head. She couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"He watched _Willow_ with me and was quite taken by the giant two-headed troll," she shrugged.

"I see. Now, I love hearing about Spencer, but how are things going around here? How are _you_?" Emily pressed gently.

Penelope's smile was something Emily didn't even know she was missing until it was there, lighting up the room. "I'm doing okay. Things were rough for a while, but I think they got better once I actually faced my fear and talked to JJ. I think I can see now just how much she's changed by this, and I don't mean for the worse. There's none of that old self-destructiveness, Mom. Did you notice that?" She didn't wait for Emily to answer, just plunged ahead in typical Penelope fashion. "The truth is, there is a lot about JJ before that I didn't tell you. And I was kind of blaming myself for how things turned out with her." Penelope took a deep breath. "I think this accident kind of saved her life."

The truth, being put so bluntly, stopped Emily in her tracks. "Was it that bad?" she asked, wide-eyed.

"Yeah, I think it was," Penelope admitted.

Emily took a breath and reached out, threading their fingers together. "You aren't to blame for any of JJ's choices, no matter what they were. She's an adult. She's responsible for herself. No matter how confused, hurt, or angry she was at the time, it was on her to make the right choices, and she didn't do that. You couldn't stop the accident anymore than I could have."

"No, but I wish I could've," Penelope spoke regretfully.

"Because you lost your parents that way."

"Yes."

Emily squeezed the hand in hers. "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sorry you had to go through this again."

Penelope sniffled and then took a steadying breath. "I can't lose it yet," she told herself, laughing through her tears. "I need to tell you about the boys."

"All right," Emily nodded.

"You're doing a great job with Spencer and you've been a rock for JJ. You're connecting with me, which I love, and appreciate more than I can even say. The thing is, you _have _to talk to Aaron. He is really struggling. I don't want to break his trust with me, but I will tell you that he told me he doesn't feel safe here anymore, since Spencer hurt him, and he feels like you chose Spencer over him by taking him with you. After Spencer freaked out. Aaron's good at blending. We both know that. But he _needs _to talk to you. He needs to feel heard by you. Don't let him push you away. …And you might wanna talk to Derek, too.." Penelope finished.

Emily took a deep breath. Then she set her coffee down and reached out to Penelope. "I love you. You know that, right? And I appreciate what you're doing here. I know it isn't easy."

"I know. Love you, too."

"Where _are_ the boys?" Emily asked, walking out into the curiously empty house.

"Oh, Aaron's at school, and Derek took Spencer with him to see JJ. So you have some time off to regroup if you need it," Penelope smiled.

"What would I do without you?" Emily wondered.

"Well, you managed almost eighteen years without me, and I think you were okay," Penelope said easily, slipping on her headset and opening her laptop to take some calls.

"_Okay_," Emily echoed, "but not complete."

Absorbed in her task at hand, Penelope didn't turn right away. Finally, she spoke. Not a response exactly. Or maybe, the perfect one.

"Hey, Mom?" she said. "I love your egg."

* * *

><p>It was really early in the morning, but JJ didn't mind it much, since today was one of her last days in DC. Soon, she could go home and be with her family again. If she got that, she could definitely handle a couple more days in therapy, even if they did feel like special forms of torture.<p>

"I want you to think about someone you'd like to call on the phone. When you think of that person, you're going to dial the number and have a short conversation with them."

JJ sighed. In this place, they could make _anything_ therapy. JJ should know. She got dressed, and it was therapy. Spoke, and it was therapy. Walked down the hall and it was therapy. Pretended to grocery shop. Baked. Looked up names in a phone book. Tried to read. Why not add calling someone on the phone?

After some thought, she was prompted again. Who did she want to call?

JJ knew who she _didn't _want to call. No friends from school. She didn't want to call her mom. She was here all the time. She didn't want to call her brothers because Derek and Spencer were coming here and Aaron was apparently in some kind of funk that lasted the exact length of time that JJ was stuck in here. She didn't want to call Penelope because she couldn't remember her number.

"Dave," the name was out of her mouth before JJ realized she was going to say it. But she missed Dave. She hadn't seen him once. And while she couldn't put her finger on why exactly, JJ remembered that something had happened to him and he had been really sad even before her accident. She wanted to know if he was okay.

Like magic, the number she wanted was put in front of her. It was JJ's job to match the numbers and the sequence so she didn't end up dialing somebody who wasn't Dave instead. So, JJ concentrated. She squinted and dialed one number at a time until she heard a dial tone.

"Hello?" Dave's voice said.

JJ smiled to herself. She had done it. "Hey. It's JJ," she told him.

"Hey, JJ. How're you doin' kiddo? Is everything okay?" he asked warmly.

"Are _you _okay?" she returned, relieved that the question came out of her mouth as she intended with inflection and emotion.

There was silence on the other end of the call for so long that JJ thought Dave might have hung up. Then, he said. "Not really. No. But why don't you tell me how you are. That'll help me take my mind off things."

"I might get to go home soon," she told him hopefully.

"That's great to hear. They been feeding you okay up there?" he asked playfully.

"Nothing as good…as your cooking," she returned, smiling.

For once, she was doing a thing that didn't feel like therapy. It just felt like connection. Instant, and satisfying.

"Your mom said you've lost a lot of weight. We've gotta fix that. But don't worry. I'll have a big meal ready when you come home. We'll fatten you right up."

JJ laughed, and it felt good. It felt natural and right. "Don't make too much trouble," she managed, when what she meant was, _Don't go to too much trouble._

Somehow, it seemed, Dave understood. "It'll be good for me. What would you like?" he asked and waited patiently for her to respond.

"Anything," she admitted. "Anything that will make it seem…like I'm home…"

* * *

><p>Spencer sat back in the car and focused on the road ahead. So far, this was a great morning. He and Derek had stopped by a coffee shop, where Derek let Spencer get real coffee and a large double chocolate chip muffin. They had taken their time, and Derek had paid, insisting that Spencer did not have to, because he wasn't old enough to have a job and earn money.<p>

They were driving back, when Spencer thought about the lessons his mom taught him about compassion. "How's your rehab going?" he asked. That seemed like a good question to ask, since they were going to a rehab facility. Not Derek's, but still.

"It's going good, kid, thanks," Derek answered, like he really meant it.

"Did you mean what you said about not playing football again? Because I looked up some information in my free time - _with _Penelope's permission - and it said that with the right follow-up care, even a knee as severely damaged as yours, you could play again."

Derek bit his lip and pulled into another lane. "I know I could play, but it's not worth the risk to me." There was a pause, and Derek looked to be weighing something internally. "If I tell you somethin', you promise not to tell?"

Spencer didn't hesitate. "I can't unless I know what the secret is." Secrets could be fun and harmless. They also could be dark and dangerous.

"It ain't dangerous, kid, okay? It's just not somethin' I wanna confide in the rest of the family, all right?"

"But you _will _tell them eventually, right?" Spencer pressed.

"Yes, I'll tell them," Derek insisted looking as if he was working to keep his temper in check.

Spencer thought fast. "Okay. Then, I promise not to tell them."

"I called my coach earlier this week. Told him I'm not returning. He told me I could, as soon as I had a doctor's clearance, but it's just not a risk I'm willing to take."

"I can be your coach. Just, you know, so you don't miss it too much," Spencer offered. Can _I _tell _you something_?"

Derek nodded.

"I decided after my nightmare last night that my fear of you doesn't make any kind of scientific sense and as such, I realized that I don't really have much use for it in my life. So, I decided that I wanted to observe the subject of my fear in a public setting so that if, by chance, something does happen, I won't be in a vulnerable position. I even brought my observation notebook," Spencer said happily. "The best way to face my fear is by overcoming it, don't you think?"

There was no immediate response, so Spencer glanced over to the driver's seat. Derek's eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, and his jaw was working in a way that let Spencer know Derek had something on his mind.

"Kid, I think the idea behind what you're doin' is great. But you gotta be careful how you word things. People aren't gonna wanna help you if they don't feel like you value them."

"I value _you_," Spencer pointed out.

"As the object of your fear, or as your brother?" Derek asked, some heat behind his words.

"Both," Spencer answered matter-of-factly.

"Can I talk straight to you?" Derek asked, while paused at a red light.

"Absolutely. I love an honest dialogue," Spencer enthused.

"I don't like bein' objectified. It's my own issue and I know that, but it's been a long few days and it's the last thing I need to hear you callin' me the object of anything, understand? You're twelve now. What you say and how you say it matters to people."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Spencer said, studying his lap.

"I know you didn't. I'm just sayin' it so you're aware."

"I appreciate that," Spencer said, and he meant it. "So, how can I fix this?" Spencer insisted. "How can I make it so you'll want to help me?" He paused momentarily, thinking. "What if I made my observations more personal? Like my notebook with mom. Like a journal. A real journal for my thoughts instead of merely observations! Would _that _help?"

"Yeah, kid. That would help," Derek said, and for the first time that day, Spencer saw a genuine smile on his brother's face.

**A/N: Hooray for a giant mega chapter wherein we get to see every single person represented! Those of you who are worried for Aaron, know that I haven't forgotten him. Thank you all so much for the sweet reviews you've sent. They really make my day!**


	24. Open

"Sergio. Mom. You. Janet. Derek. Aaron and me. Penelope. Dave and Carolyn," JJ raised an eyebrow cockily at Spencer after correctly identifying the faces in each picture. She was quick, too "See? I'm better at these now. I'm going home in a couple of days. Hey, are you even listening?"

JJ elbowed Spencer, who was sitting beside her in the hospital bed with a notebook open in his lap, writing furiously.

Derek could just imagine what he was writing, but chose not to focus on it. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a worn piece of paper. "Hey, Jaje. Remember this?" he asked and held it out for her to see.

She took the paper and studied it closely, reading in a halting voice. "Whoever. Has. This. Room. After. Me." Pausing, she stared at Derek. "Did _I _write this?" she wondered.

As Spencer took up about a fourth of the bed, and JJ another forth, Derek climbed in on the other side of JJ to read over her shoulder.

"Hey, what _is_ that?" Spencer asked, intrigued.

"It's a note I found just after I moved in with y'all," Derek explained. Then, he went on to read the note aloud. "It says, 'Whoever has this room after me, If you are here, that means some bad stuff probably happened to you. I stayed in this room before you. Bad stuff happened in my life too. Emily is a tough lady. She doesn't let you off easy, but she lets you make your own choices, even if they are bad ones. She helps you learn right from wrong and how to make it up if you hurt someone else. She is not joking when she says you are safe. You really are. This house is the safest place I've ever been. If you can't trust her yet, trust me. It will get better. Love, JJ (age 11)'"

"I think I remember writing that. …I did it really quick before I left and put it on my bed. I don't get though…Why do you have it?" JJ pressed.

"Because I had the room after you," Derek explained. "Must've fallen when Mom was cleaning the room. I found it the first night I moved in, shoved between the bed and the wall. I used to keep it with me. Read it every day. You helped me before I ever met you."

JJ was silent, and seemed to be processing the information when Spencer interjected, "You're both helping _me_," he announced. "Now, I have a notebook with Mom and I'm going to have one with Derek, as well." He cast a meaningful look at Derek. "You can see what I've written after I'm done.

"I never knew that," JJ mused, finally having made sense of his Derek's previous comment. She looked at him, unflinching. "How come you never told me?"

"It's been years. Honestly, I didn't think you'd care to know," Derek admitted. "Things were pretty rough before your accident."

"You mean I was an asshole," JJ amended, honesty and humor shining in her eyes.

"Kinda, yeah. But you had your reasons," Derek told her.

Spencer continued on his own train of thought. "I'm planning on starting a notebook with everyone in the family, because I think it's something that will really foster connection between us. Penelope and I can send ours back and forth by mail when she leaves. …And this is assuming Aaron will even be willing to keep one with me. I have a long way to go toward rebuilding his trust."

"You ever apologize to him?" Derek wondered aloud. "I mean, on your own. Did you ever go to him and tell him you were sorry?"

"Spence…I don't get one?" JJ interjected, focused on the notebook he held.

"Excuse me?" Spencer asked.

JJ fingered the notebook in his lap. "You said everyone. Everyone gets one."

"That's right. I just…didn't want to push the idea if you weren't ready. I know you're still working on some things and I didn't want to aggravate your progress by expecting you to read my atrocious, illegible handwriting. Or expecting you to write an extensive amount," Spencer rambled.

"Well, I want to. Do you have more with you? I want to write you something, but I don't want you to read it until you're home. Okay?"

"Okay, I promise," Spencer said, obviously curious about what JJ was up to.

Derek and Spencer both moved off the bed to give her space and privacy. Spencer stared at the large bulletin board, covered in get well cards, and Derek flipped channels on the muted television.

Twenty minutes later, JJ was still busy, flipping pages and writing. Spencer, bored now, at having looked through every single card, came and stood by Derek.

"You can read what I wrote about you if you want. While we wait," Spencer invited, holding out the green spiral notebook.

Derek took it and flipped past mundane observations until he found a page with today's date.

_Derek,_

_Right now, we are visiting JJ in the hospital. You are being very gentle and kind to both of us. You go out of your way to help. You notice things first that other people miss, like the note from JJ when she was little. Like what was in my bag last fall. You even noticed my need for a friend when I first moved in. Having witnessed and remembered all these things about you, I can confidently say, I am not afraid of you anymore. _

"Thanks, Spencer," Derek said. "You're a cool kid, you know that."

"You are probably the only person who's ever used that adjective to describe me," Spencer responded, smiling.

"Okay. Here," JJ announced suddenly, closing the notebook and holding it out to Spencer.

"And I can't read it now?" Spencer asked, for clarification.

"No," JJ said, shaking her head.

"Okay. I'll save it, then," Spencer promised. "I can't wait for you to come home."

"Me, too," JJ nodded.

Derek just hoped things would settle down by then.

* * *

><p>Dave knocked on Emily's door bright and early, midweek. This was the day JJ would be coming home. The truth was, Dave hadn't thought much about what he'd promised before promising to cook JJ whatever she'd like when she came home. The truth was, the last time Dave had cooked - <em>really <em>cooked - was October 26th, and Carolyn had been in the bedroom, writing him a letter. Lying down on the bed. Taking her last breath.

It wasn't that Dave was planning to back out. After so many months, he finally, slowly, had started to join the world again. Cooking this meal would be a great first start, but he also had to be realistic. Cooking in his kitchen wasn't about to happen. Which was why he was at Emily's door, trying to balance a small cooler, a casserole dish and bags of ingredients.

"Up and at 'em Prentisses!" he called, ringing the doorbell with fervor. "Today's a special day! I like to call it _Cooking with Grandpa_," he intoned.

Emily pulled open the door, staring at Dave with bleary eyes. "Not that I don't always love to see you, Dave. But what exactly are you doing here at…" she checked her watch "7:30 in the morning?"

"That's the thing of it. JJ called me the other day and I promised to cook her something when she got out of that hospital. Since today's the day, I wanted to be sure and have the meal at an accessible, familiar place for her, enough prep time, and all that. So I need your kitchen. Possibly some assistants. Oh, and I'm making lasagna. Homemade, of course…"

"Of course," Emily echoed, bemused.

"What do you think?" he asked. He'd never been unsure his entire marriage to Carolyn, but he had spent the last four months feeling totally out of his depth.

"Sounds great," Emily reassured, planting a kiss on his cheek. "Just let me get the kids going. Kitchen's a mess."

"The kitchen's like my art studio, you know?" he asked sternly.

"I know," she reassured. "They'll take care of it. Well, Aaron's at school, but the three here will take care of it."

Dave nodded, satisfied, and wrinkled his nose as he took a peek in the refrigerator. This did not look promising. But he was going to have this place in shape and a beautiful lasagna baking in no time.

* * *

><p>"Derek, honey! No! When Emily said clean the fridge, I doubt she meant 'obsessively scour the fridge!' The good stuff's not gonna stay good long if it takes you five hours to wipe it out!"<p>

"Girl, would you leave it alone?" Derek asked. "I got this. Hey, did you take the last of the tuna casserole?" he asked. "I was gonna have that for lunch."

Penelope surveyed the mass of plastic containers and the stench surrounding them. "No. No tuna casserole here."

"Damn it!" Derek swore good-naturedly. "I really wanted that, too."

"Sure, you did. Were you or were you not the one who was halfway to eating the salsa before realizing it had gone disgustingly bad?"

"Yeah, that was me," Derek shot back easily. "What's your point? I didn't eat it, did I?"

"Good food should never be allowed to go to waste," Dave remarked from the table where he was assembling his lasagna. He was wearing one of Emily's aprons and hummed under his breath. Little tunes that made Penelope smile.

"See?" Derek exclaimed. "Dave and I know what we're talkin' about!"

"Derek, I'm sending Spencer in to take over for you," Emily called.

"Hallelujah," he said, dropping the cloth into the bucket and abandoning it. He got up and walked out to the living room, passing Spencer on the way.

"What's up? Got somethin' heavy you want me to move?" he asked with a smile.

"Come sit down," Emily encouraged, patting the couch beside her. "I realized with everything going on that I've really dropped the ball with you guys."

Derek was silent, not confirming or denying anything.

"I want to apologize to you. I'm sorry for not being available to you," Emily said sincerely.

"Yeah, well, you had JJ to look after. I understood that," Derek managed, forcing the words out. They weren't what he meant to say at all. JJ came to mind in that instant. Was that what life was like for her now? Meaning to tell your mom that yes, she did let you down, and instead, letting her off the hook?

Emily just waited, looking him in the eye. "I know I've let you down. I want you to know if there's anything you need to talk about I'm here to listen."

Derek shrugged. "I don't blame you. I just wish you'd been there for me. Even just called or something, when I had my surgery. That would've helped, you know? I've never been good with hospitals."

Emily winced, and he could tell it was just registering now that she hadn't kept her word on the day of his surgery. "I'm so sorry… It's just been a crazy time with JJ and Spencer, and the little boys. Carolyn before that. But that's no excuse. You deserved to have me there, and I'm sorry I wasn't."

Derek pressed his lips together, willing himself not to tell her it was okay. It wasn't. Finally he settled on. "I quit football." It was the only secret he felt he could tell.

Raising her eyebrows, Emily waited.

"I just wanted you to know…I don't want to run the risk of hurting it again, and not bein' able to chase my kids around later in life, you know?"

"I think that was a brave and mature decision. You're growing up to be a great man," Emily told him honestly. "I love you very much."

"Love you, too. Thanks," he said, reaching over to give her a hug. He still wasn't much of a hugger, but once in awhile a situation just called for one. "Thanks for takin' me in. Givin' me a home. I know my parents are grateful. I know Carolyn's tellin'' 'em all about you and what you did for me."

"It's always been my pleasure, Derek. Now, is there anything you'd like…"

"What? Like a new car?" he teased, when really, he was just glad she hadn't asked if there was anything she could do for him. Certain phrases still caught him off guard.

"Within reason," Emily laughed.

"Could I invite Jordan over for dinner tonight?" he asked.

"Are you two…?" she asked, curious.

"Dating," he supplied. "Well, kinda… Why, are you all right with that?"

"I'm happy for you. It's fine if you want to invite her over. I promise to do my best not to embarrass you."

Derek laughed. It was good to have his mom back.

* * *

><p>When JJ arrived home that afternoon, to the house, warm with the scent of lasagna and garlic bread, Aaron was the first person she saw. She wasn't used to feeling self-conscious, but he was the only one of her siblings who hadn't seen her in the hospital. Unless he came while she was really out of it and she didn't remember. But she felt sure someone would have told her about that.<p>

"Hey…" she said awkwardly.

"Hey…" he returned, eyeing her suspiciously. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Why? Are you?" she wondered, getting the feeling she equated with shoplifting as a kid. Not the shoplifting. But the getting caught. The lying and the being caught in the lie.

"Yeah," he echoed.

Derek and Penelope were on either side of her, and the irony didn't escape JJ. She remembered clearly coming home some months ago. Then it had been her and Penelope supporting Derek as he made his way into the house.

"Welcome home!" Spencer exclaimed. "I loved my 'I love you' journal entry, JJ! It was fantastic and just what I needed to hear!"

"Hey, thank you," JJ answered, feeling overwhelmed as she belatedly took in the WELCOME HOME JJ banner, crepe paper streamers and balloons.

"You can sit right here at the table," Spencer insisted pulling out a chair. Derek helped her sit. She winced as her head throbbed.

"I'll go help Mom bring in the bags," Aaron muttered.

"Kiddo, you're home," Dave greeted warmly, placing a gentle kiss on her head. "We missed you around here."

JJ said nothing, just swallowed around the lump in her throat. She'd asked on the drive home, to be sure her memory wasn't just being screwy. She'd asked if Carolyn was dead, too. The answer had been yes. And JJ had taken a deep breath, but the tears had still fallen. It seemed that no matter what, she was always losing people. She'd been looking forward to seeing both Dave and Carolyn, but Dave would have to be enough.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and held on, choking out a brief, "sorry" as an explanation. Then, with much concentration, she managed, "I'm sorry she's not here."

Dave just held her, and whispered. "She is. It's just different now."

After months of being apart, Emily's house finally felt like home again. All five kids were here, plus Dave and Jordan, laughing and talking over Dave's lasagna. There were the obvious differences, like when JJ announced in a silence that she had a "hell of a headache."

Then, there were the more subtle cues that raised Emily's sense of urgency. She watched as everyone at the table ate hungrily and Aaron picked, eating part of everything, and leaving the rest behind.

"Are you all right?" Emily asked, never forgetting that he was the only child she had yet to connect with. All her attempts thus far, had resulted in short one-word answers, and him walking away from her. Clear indicators that something wasn't right. Emily vowed that this time, she would not let him push her away.

"Fine," Aaron answered, faking it like Emily knew he could. "I'm just not very hungry."

She felt her stomach sink. That was Aaron's tell. What he said, without realizing it, when things were not at all as they should be. He'd said it at seven, after they got Sergio and she found him with handfuls of cat food underneath the bed. He'd said it at eleven, after she had gone out of town for a week. Her biological mother was dying. None of the kids knew her, so Emily had set them up with Dave and Carolyn. She had come home in time to tuck her kids in bed after five long days, and encountered the most hideous of odors in Aaron's bedroom. She'd found food he'd collected and stashed in his closet.

Emily took a deep breath and excused herself.

She needed to search Aaron's room.

**A/N: Finally! Thing's are really rolling along. Aaron's stuff is going to be addressed at last! So glad that JJ's home and Dave's doing better! Plus, Emily got to talk things out with Derek! Thanks to all of you for all your support of this story! It's awesome!**


	25. Restore

Aaron followed slowly, all his senses tuned for whatever was to come. His mom led the way downstairs and he was confused at first. Then, she turned the corner to his room, immaculately clean, as usual, and opened his closet doors, tossing his clothes hamper, and other containers that held past important schoolwork, yearbooks and certificates.

"What are you doing?" he asked evenly.

"If you're hiding food in here again, we need to deal with it," she said calmly. Finally satisfied with the state of the bottom of his closet, his mom began putting things to rights again. Next, she searched the shelves that sat over the area where his clothes hung.

"I'm not," he told her calmly. And he wasn't. Not there, anyway.

He watched as she checked each drawer in his dresser and desk, his bookshelf, and under his mattress. As she struggled to get down on the floor, using her phone as a flashlight, Aaron could hear the sigh that escaped her lips. She turned to look at him, and Aaron felt trapped, he thought about running. But she stopped him short.

"We're going to deal with this," she said, her tone even and matter-of-fact. Then, one by one, she removed the plastic containers, bags and wrappers from beneath his bed.

"What are you doing?!" he asked, his voice climbing in alarm.

"Aaron, you can't keep this in here," his mom cracked the lid on one container, and nearly gagged. Inside, was spoiled tuna casserole. "Honey, this food is covered in mold. You'll get sick."

He couldn't move. He couldn't speak. Aaron just stood still, trying to prepare himself for whatever came next. But he didn't actually believe she'd take everything away. Not again. Then, he saw her gather up the first few containers and walk toward his bedroom door and something broke lose inside him.

"You can't! Mom, this is _my _room! You said it a thousand times! You can't just come in here and take stuff!"

"Aaron, listen to me," she said, stopping in front of him. "You are always going to be taken care of here. You're always going to have enough to eat. You're always welcome to fruit from the table, or anything in the bottom drawer of the fridge. I promise you, it's going to be okay. But you keeping perishable food under your bed like this? It's not healthy. And if I, as your mom, who loves you and looks out for you, notice that something isn't healthy, I _have to _step in, on good conscience."

"You were just going to throw it out, anyway!" he exploded. "What does it matter if, or where I keep it?!"

"Yes, I was going to throw it away because when something goes bad, it's not healthy to eat anymore. I promise, we're going to replace this with food that will keep. I'm not going to fight you on this, okay? You are allowed to eat whenever you're hungry. You don't have to save leftovers from meals. You can have your own container to keep in here. It'll always be available to you. Now, I need you to move aside so I can take care of these," Emily said gently, her arms still full of Tupperware.

Aaron tipped his chin, a subtle act of defiance. He didn't move. "You're not listening to me! So, why should I listen to you?!" he flinched even as the words left his mouth. He was so far outside of what was acceptable, it wasn't even funny, but he couldn't stop it.

* * *

><p>In the kitchen, a floor above Aaron's room, JJ sighed, trying to keep the mood light. "Now I <em>know <em>I'm home," she said. "People freaking out besides me."

Penelope slid her chair out and excused herself, heading downstairs. It was totally unusual to hear The President raise his voice like this, especially at Emily, but he had a lot pent up, and she figured he might need extra support.

"So, Jordan," Dave asked easily, trying to distract from the commotion going on below them. "What do you think of my lasagna?"

"It's delicious," she nodded. "JJ and I used to get pizza once in a while at Pitt. It was good, but nothing beats home cooking."

"What about you, JJ? Do you like it? And our decorations?" Spencer pressed, from directly beside her.

"Yeah, it's great," she confirmed, but her tone sounded empty.

"You all right?" Derek asked and she shook her head.

"Sorry, I can't concentrate on this with whatever Aaron's screaming about down there."

* * *

><p>"Hey," Penelope said softly, getting Aaron's attention before she dared try to touch him.<p>

"You need to let Mom do this," Penelope said, quickly taking in the array of missing leftovers from the kitchen, and piles of wrappers and boxes.

"Oh, so now you're on _her side_?! Why won't anyone believe me? This is no big deal! Just put it back and leave me alone!" Aaron exclaimed, shaking.

"I'm on your side. So is your mom. We're trying to help right now," Penelope explained gently. "I know this is scary-"

"I'm _not scared_! I lived with a lot worse than this! And I sure as hell have eaten food worse than any of this looks and it didn't hurt me!" he exclaimed.

"Then this must be pretty confusing," Penelope corrected. Then she turned to Emily. "I'm taking him to put together something he can keep in here," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Then, she led Aaron upstairs, giving the evil eye to Spencer, JJ, Derek and Jordan. Aaron didn't need any commentary right now.

"How big of a container do you need?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

Wordlessly, he picked a large bowl, regularly used for popcorn during movie nights. She didn't comment, only took him to the cupboards and the pantry so he could fill it. Penelope was glad Emily kept the disposing of the food out of Aaron's sight. Everyone in the family knew he had issues with seeing food - even bad food - being thrown away.

"Aaron?" Spencer questioned. "I don't know if this is a good time, but I just wanted to be sure you know I'm really sorry for hitting you. I promise, won't do that ever again, even if you make me really angry. Okay? Do you accept my apology?"

Instead of answering, Aaron took a cautious step back. "No," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I hear you. But I can't accept it. Not right now. My head's pretty messed up right now. Give me a day or two…" he said, as if they were making a bargain.

"Oh, of course," Spencer answered, though his expression clearly showed his disappointment. "Aaron? I got these at the store the other day with Derek. You can keep them with you if you want," he invited, holding out a new box of granola bars.

"They're yours. I don't need them," Aaron said, shrugging, and clearly not used to his brother's generosity.

"So, if they're mine, I get to choose what to do with them. I'm choosing to give them to you. You need them more than I do anyway," he said, putting the box in Aaron's hand and walking back to the table.

"Thanks," Aaron called, still uncomfortable, as Penelope filled the bowl with wrapped crackers, cookies, pudding cups, chips, dried fruit, cereal, small bottles of water and anything else she could see at a glance. It made him feel better just watching her do it.

* * *

><p>Finally, Emily finished tossing all of Aaron's stash. The containers went, too, because she simply couldn't abide herself or anyone else washing them and reusing them. Then, while she waited for Aaron to return with Penelope, Emily put together baskets of food and set them in each room of the house. Nuts. Chocolates. Crackers with a jar of peanut butter nearby. Anything she could think of. She mixed the choices together, and then made sure there was something in every room, even her own. She wanted Aaron feeling safe, and clearly he didn't.<p>

When he and Penelope finally returned, they sat down beside each other on Aaron's bed. He clutched a large yellow popcorn bowl on his lap as Emily pulled up the desk chair across from him.

"I need to apologize to you," she said, looking Aaron in the eyes. "I haven't been doing a good job being your mom. It's my responsibility to pay enough attention to know when you're struggling. I'm not giving you excuses. I should have been there for you and I wasn't. That is not okay. I'm so sorry you felt so unsafe you ran away, and I'm sorry I wasn't more tuned in and didn't talk to you about it afterward. You deserve to have a mom who's available to you, who listens to you and takes care of you, no matter how old you are."

"But I was disrespectful," Aaron muttered.

"You were panicking," Emily corrected. "I know the difference. This hoarding? Should have never happened."

"I'm sorry," Aaron apologized, and meant it.

"Honey, it's not your fault. Okay? I promise you. This is part of my job as your mom and I haven't followed through with you…on so many things. Know that starting from right now, I will be someone you can count on again."

"Because JJ's home?" Aaron asked, his honesty shocking her.

"Honestly, yes, it's easier to make sure all of you are okay, when you're all under the same roof. I didn't like it at all being separated from you."

"Me neither," Aaron admitted quietly.

"What I'm trying to say is, I'm going to be checking in with you. I want to talk to you every single day. I want to know how you're doing. Not just what you think I want to hear, but the truth. I'm going to get you an appointment," she said, referencing the counselor Aaron had seen off and on since he moved in with her. "I want you to keep it this time."

Aaron bit his lip guiltily.

"I'm going to help you, all right? I'll drive you, or Penelope or Derek can drive you. Whoever you feel most comfortable with. But I want your word on this, all right? It's very important that you have someone to discuss these things with, that isn't me or your brothers or sisters."

"I promise," he said solemnly.

"Now, is there anything you need to talk to me about?" she asked, and held her breath, not knowing if Aaron was ready to be this honest or not.

He watched her, suspicion clouding his eyes.

"I'll just listen," she promised. "I won't say a word until you're finished. Or at all, if you'd prefer."

Aaron cleared his throat. "I feel like you like Spencer more than me. Because after he hurt me you let him go with you to see JJ and left me behind. Then, Dave left. Then, I left, and no one even missed me."

"I'm sorry about that. I can see how it seemed to you that I was favoring Spencer when I offered to take him with me. I can see that you probably chose not to go because you didn't feel safe around him at that time, and I'm very sorry about that. I can't take back the past, but I wish I could. I wish I could have made the correct choice that day, because you deserve to feel wanted and loved and secure every single day, not just when you think you deserve it. I love you so much, Aaron, and I will do everything in my power so that you can feel safe here again. It won't happen overnight and it will take work, but I'm in it for the long haul with you. Because I love you so much."

"I love you, too," he said quietly. Slowly, he released his grip on the bowl, stood, and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry for yelling at you," he said into her shoulder.

"We're going to work this out, okay? Together as a family," Emily promised. Over Aaron's shoulder, she caught sight of Penelope, tears streaming down her cheeks, and a smile on her face. She flashed Emily a thumbs-up, and then quietly left the room.

**A/N: It's about time Emily and Aaron had that talk! Seriously! Thank you guys again for all your fabulous feedback! It's always a good day when I read it! Seven more chapters to go!**


	26. Keys

"JJ, I loved your note that said 'I love you' and I wrote you a message back in our notebook. Do you want to read it?" Spencer asked, sitting down beside her on the couch.

JJ didn't want to do anything. It was Monday morning and she was exhausted. The thought of reading anything right now was almost beyond her. She had real therapists coming by the house this afternoon to work on stuff for two hours. She wanted to relax until then. But Spencer looked so excited about sharing something with her that JJ sat up a little straighter, and forced her mind into concentration mode.

She took the notebook from his hand and squinted at the large block style printing, feeling simultaneously relieved and small. Relieved because Spencer took into account that her vision still sucked. Small because it looked like something written for a kindergartener.

"Do you want to read it out loud to me?" he asked gently. "No one else is around. Penelope's sleeping. Derek's running errands. Mom's in her studio and Aaron's at school."

Sighing, and covering the rest of the page, JJ focused on the first word. It was one she had seen several times, thanks to Spencer's letter writing. "Dear. JJ," she read in a halting monotone. "I am…every…_very_," she corrected, and then paused at the next word. It looked completely unfamiliar. She could read the last two - _of_ and_ you_ - so she knew whatever the sentence said had to do with her.

"Keep trying," Spencer encouraged.

JJ shook her head, feeling lost. "Spell it. Like.. Can you say it and spell it?" she asked.

"You want me to spell it out loud for you? Of course! The word is p-r-o-u-d."

She knew the letters, but how they came together was a mystery. The fact that JJ hadn't been able to fully catch up on sleep since she'd been home, despite multiple naps and at least ten hours of sleep a night. Early mornings made her brain feel sluggish and uncooperative. Even if she'd recognized the word Spencer spelled, JJ doubted she would have been able to say it out loud.

The few minutes it had taken to read the few words on the page and think about the missing one, and JJ's mind was somewhere else. Spencer had said Aaron was at school. It was Monday morning. Aaron was at school and Spencer wasn't. She was about to ask him why he wasn't when the image of him from months ago came back to her. Derek, pissed off at JJ because Stan had just hurt Spencer. Derek lifting Spencer's shirt and showing her the marks on his skin from being tied up. He was going to school at home now.

JJ had so much she wanted to say, but what came out of her mouth surprised even her.

"Rope," she said.

* * *

><p>Spencer was completely fascinated. He felt like an explorer with millions of sets of keys for JJ's millions of mental file cabinet drawers. It was up to him to figure out which key unlocked which drawer. And likewise, figure out just which file folder a seemingly random utterance had fallen out of.<p>

Logically, he knew that the word _proud_ shared three common letters with the word _rope_. So, maybe, JJ knew what the word was now that she heard it, but it simply wouldn't come out right. Still, Spencer knew better than to assume his first hypothesis was right without asking some questions.

"Rope?" he asked. "Are you still trying to read this word?"

JJ shook her head.

"Okay. Can you tell me anything else?" Spencer knew this was likely an unfair question. When JJ was tired, her speech was considerably more affected than it was when she was rested. If he wanted to speak to her at her best, the afternoon might have been a more opportune time. But she deserved to be heard, even if it took more work on his part to decode what she was saying.

"You," JJ managed.

Since that wasn't much help, Spencer focused on studying other things about her. Her vocal inflection was flat, but she was fidgeting and that would indicate worry.

"Are you worried about something?" he asked, feeling more and more like a detective.

"Yes."

"Are you worried about _me_?" he pressed gently.

"Yes."

"Finish this sentence. You're worried about me because…" Spencer tried.

"They tied you…" JJ said, her eyes full of tears.

Spencer's heart stuttered in his chest. He stared at her. Rope had not been a mixed up file after all. JJ had been remembering what she'd been told about what the kids at school had done to him.

"Sorry," JJ managed, reaching out and pulling him to her.

Spencer couldn't speak. JJ had been the only one thus far who had not assumed that the passage of time had eased his mind about what had been done to him. For her, it was new. For him…well…he still dreamed about it. He still got anxious in crowds. He asked Derek to do his best not to surprise him or come at him when he wasn't expecting it. Sometimes, his wrist and ankles still burned as if there were ropes around them.

"What I wrote to you?" he managed, against JJ's side. "It says, 'Dear JJ, I am very _proud _of you. Love, Spencer.'"

She had given him a gift. It was the least he could do to give her this in return.

Spencer had planned on encouraging her to write a message back, but suddenly, this was more important. He knew, from their mom, that JJ had needed to relearn emotions and empathy. The fact that she was feeling something for him was huge. It had been months. Had _anyone _said they were sorry to him about what happened? If they did, Spencer genuinely could not recall. That's why JJ taking the time to apologize meant so very much.

"Why?" JJ asked, her grip still firm around him.

"Why am I proud of you?" Spencer asked. "Because you're working so hard to get past what hurt you."

JJ didn't respond, but she didn't have to. Her presence in this moment was enough.

* * *

><p>After school, Aaron rode his bike to the local McDonald's. He had some money. Food wasn't the only thing he stored for later. He had the hundred dollars in his backpack. That was gone, but his emergency fund was far from dry. Years of finding money in couch cushions, and taking a little spare change here and there from the jar on top of the clothes dryer meant that Aaron had plenty when he needed it.<p>

He had counted before he left the house. He had thirty dollars and some cents in coins. So Aaron went in and stared in awe at the menu. Then, he started ordering. Nobody would think twice about a teenage guy like him ordering a crazy amount of food. So, he did. Three Big Macs. Two large orders of fries. One large chocolate chip frappe. A large McFlurry with Rolos. He brought it all with him to a table in the back after paying.

With his attention focused on the television, which played Finding Nemo - a movie he remembered from when he first moved into Emily's house - Aaron ate. He put two of the Big Mac's and one order of fries in his backpack. He ate the other Big Mac. The other order of fries. He ate the two desserts and was uncomfortably full.

His mom thought it was such a quick fix. Just give him other food to replace the food she took. Like it was a game that she had to get better at playing each time. The game to make him feel safe and at ease. But he didn't feel that. She didn't assure him of that. She just took what was his - what he needed to survive - while Penelope tried her best to replace it with food that kept.

What neither Penelope or his mom knew was that Aaron could play the game better than most. He said all the right things. He did all the right things. He adapted when he had to. He had it down so well that they didn't even realize they were being tricked. They didn't know that they had to look deeper. That some part of him was still screaming. Still terrified of starving. So, he couldn't keep things under his bed. Now, he kept his food other places. Places his mom couldn't take it back. Plus, he bought it with his own money so she wouldn't miss it.

It was the perfect plan, in many ways. Except the one way that counted.

Because Aaron ate and kept food for later and he watched the viperfish on Finding Nemo, and he knew that he wasn't so far removed from the kid he had been. Deep down, he was still just a bad, deceptive kid, that tricked people into getting close to him so that he could hurt them by doing all the wrong things. By being the person he was instead of the person he should be.

* * *

><p>JJ worked hard that afternoon. She remembered what Spencer said earlier. How proud he was of her for working hard. So, even if she got frustrated trying to read or write or get around the house without tripping, JJ was determined to try again. Even when the therapist left, JJ insisted they leave behind the things that gave her the most trouble. So she could stare at them. So that she could commit them to memory. So that she could say them.<p>

While she worked, Spencer had taken two hours to finish his own schoolwork for the day. JJ was glad he got a break from her; even though she was pretty sure, he got a lot out of trying to figure out how the brain worked.

"Hey, Jaje. Need help?" Penelope asked.

"I got it. You can't help me with this," she insisted.

"All right. I'll be in the kitchen," she said.

The thumping of footsteps on the stairs let JJ know that Spencer was done with his homework. Her head throbbed, but she still stared at the cards in front of her. One was a chair. One was a window. One was a mirror. One was an ice cream cone. She knew them. But she couldn't say them for the life of her.

"What are you sitting on?" Spencer asked, launching himself at the place beside her at the dining room table.

"A chair," she said, like he was stupid. "Are you going to graduate?"

"That's very funny," Spencer said and JJ couldn't be sure if he was complimenting her or insulted by her. "What's this?" he asked, pointing to the picture of the chair.

"Couch," she said and swore. "I know what it is!" she insisted.

"I believe you," he said taking the card away. "Okay, so. You sit on a…" he said, hoping to trigger the automatic response.

"Chair…" she sighed. "God, this would be so much better with a beer!"

"Not funny, Sunshine," Penelope called from the next room.

"Not saying I wanna _drive_ after. I'm just saying. This is _boring_, and I'm too uptight. I need to loosen up," JJ explained.

"So, why don't you do it the old-fashioned way and take a deep breath? Close your eyes?" Penelope asked.

"Because, if I do that, I'll fall asleep," JJ muttered.

Spencer cleared his throat. "Just so you know, JJ? You're a really good person when you're sober. A lot better than when you're not. Plus, you're underage. Not to mention, you shouldn't drink when you're on anti-seizure medication."

"Thank you, Dr. Phil," she said, frustrated.

"Dr. Phil is a psychologist. He doesn't dispense medication," Spencer clarified.

JJ watched as Spencer cleared away all the other cards. The window she always called a box. The mirror she always said was a window. And the ice cream cone that was consistently a hat. Now, just the chair was left.

"What you're sitting on, and what's in this picture? They're the same thing," Spencer explained patiently. "They're both chairs."

"I know they are," JJ sighed. "I just can't _say _they are."

"Music helps, right? Because it utilizes more areas of your brain than speaking does." Spencer said, getting excited. "I think the _problem is_? There are no songs about chairs!"

"There _is, however_, an amazing song about windows!" Penelope put in from the kitchen and rushed to find Emily's _Yes I Am_ CD. Soon, Melissa Ethridge's voice filled the kitchen. Penelope used the ladle she had as a makeshift microphone to belt the lyrics of _Come to my Window_.

Though JJ didn't know all the words - the song was a little before her time - she was able to pick up the chorus easily, and felt her mood lifting at the sight of her sister's craziness. At her side, Spencer was busily holding up the card every time the word _window _was sung. It cracked JJ up.

The song even got their mom out of her art studio, and in a rare moment of unguarded joy, she joined Penelope in dancing and singing. Derek came in, mid repeat, and stood in the doorway, his arms full of bags, and a small smile on his face. Jordan danced in behind him, joining Penelope and their mom, with a style that was impressive.

JJ might not be an expert at saying words on command, but right now, JJ found she didn't care. She laughed with her family for the first time in a long time. But she found herself wishing Aaron were here in this moment. She had developed a keen eye for identifying anything out of place. And right now, the absence of one of her brothers was clearly something out of place. JJ wondered if she was the only one who noticed.

**A/N: Finally back to updating after a little break. I needed time to figure out just how the rest of the story will play out. I think I have a good idea and I am pretty excited about all the things left to explore! Thank you all for being so patient and encouraging. I appreciate all of you, from the readers to the favoriters to the alerters to the constant reviewers! **


	27. Manassas

The next morning, Aaron got up early and headed into the bathroom, feeling stiff. The first thing he did, as usual, was to check out the bathroom cabinet under the sink. The only people who used it were him and Spencer, and Derek, when he was home. They didn't open up the little cabinet for anything. So that's where Aaron chose to store his latest McDonald's food. He needed room in his backpack for today's run, and he wouldn't be able to do it without relocating the two Big Macs and two large orders of fries.

He stepped into the shower, feeling tense. The last few months had made him nervous. He was going to therapy this time, because his mom was making sure. It was supposed to help, but really, it only helped him feel more raw about his past. Discussing the abuse and the food issues only had him feeling triggered, and in need of very intuitive people to know when he was struggling. Penelope was good at this, and his mom tried to be tuned in to him, but her efforts only made him feel more nervous. If he could talk to anybody, he would have chosen Penelope, but, like JJ these days, he just couldn't find the right words.

The food in his room didn't do anything to help him cope. He hadn't chosen it, Penelope had. Besides which, his mom had just gone through his room and gotten rid of his other food when he wasn't there. So, what was to stop her from doing the same thing again? As usual, there was no control. Talking about it didn't help, because he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Which led him to thinking about his biggest problem. Spencer. It wasn't Spencer, himself, who was the problem, just the fact that nothing was really said or done to let Aaron know he'd be safe from here on out. All his mom said was that she was sorry and she couldn't change the past.

Well, neither could he. His past made him act the way he did. And his past was his past because he was such a loser. If he'd been better - if he'd never run away in first grade - none of the rest would have ever happened. Maybe, his whole life would have been different. Maybe, he would have never come here and bothered Emily in the first place, made Spencer so angry that he beat Aaron up, blew JJ off the night of her accident. Everything would be better if Aaron were somewhere else entirely.

Because he had plenty of time before school, he went out the back door downstairs, and stopped by some of Penelope's flowers. She had planted more and more over the years. Now that spring was coming and there wasn't snow, but there was plenty of dirt. Aaron sat down out there, kind of in a daze. This garden wasn't so different from his real mom and dad's backyard. He shivered, letting the dirt fall between his fingers.

"Hey," Penelope said softly. "What are you doing out here?"

Aaron shrugged. "Nothing," he adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulders, knowing it was full of books, not food, like he wished.

"No, it's not nothing. Something's wrong. Talk to me," she said, sitting down next to him, despite the cold morning. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be on his way to school and she probably had better things to do.

"Nothing's wrong," he insisted, but his mind was elsewhere. There was no use in trying to trick Penelope. He'd already been too open with her. Better to cut his losses. "I have to go to school," he said abruptly and walked to the garage to get his bike.

"I can give you a ride," Penelope offered.

"No, thanks. Hey, I have a choir thing after school. Tell Mom so she won't worry, please?" he asked, pedaling as hard as he could toward the high school. There was no choir event at school today. His mother marked every concert down carefully on the calendar and tried not to miss any, even if they were located some distance away at colleges and universities.

Penelope probably knew that. And Aaron had no way of actually knowing whether she intended to pass along the lie to their mom or not. Yesterday, he hadn't been missed because of a fabricated school project, and an actual shrink appointment that followed. But right now, whatever Penelope told their mom didn't matter, because he wouldn't have to face the consequences until much later, once he'd done what he intended to do.

* * *

><p>As usual, Aaron sought solace in his choir class. What few friends he had in school, Aaron had made through choir. They were currently practicing his favorite piece, an incredibly difficult one, called <em>O Magnum Mysterium<em>. Aaron knew the English translation because they were required by their teacher, Mr. Kenneth, to know exactly what they were singing about, but Aaron preferred the Latin. He preferred the solemnity, the secrecy and the haunting beauty of it. It was by far, the hardest piece he had learned. After six months of practice, they still hoped to get it perfect for their final concert, which was two months away. It was a Christmas song, but it had been far from ready in December.

Not everyone took practicing as seriously as Aaron did. Sometimes, Mr. K. would call out, "Do it again for Alex," or "Luke" or "Jackie". Aaron always held his breath. Always hoped that his name would not be called as the one who had screwed up the sound for the entire group. So far, so good. If only, he could never leave this class, and the haven that was this room and this environment, then Aaron would have felt much more at ease. Instead, he counted down the minutes, knowing that eventually, this bubble of safety would burst and he would be forced to deal with the real world.

He felt the director's eyes on him, and Aaron snapped to attention, determined to sing his part in the complicated nine-part harmony section flawlessly.

Five hours later, Aaron rode his bike to the McDonald's. He ignored the stiffness in his body and focused instead on what was to come. On the promise of food. This time, he brought his emergency fund. All the money Dave ever gave him for odd jobs. He had purposely emptied his bag at school, leaving all his books behind in his locker. It was a risky move, with homework. But he could always look up assignments online, and ask his few friends what he had missed. Right now, this was more important.

He'd awoken that morning with his mouth watering. Aaron had dreamed of all the things he would buy today. So, when he stepped up to the counter, he was ready. He ordered multiple hamburgers, cheeseburgers, cookies, a baked apple pie, two milks, a bottle of water, a 20-piece chicken nuggets, a ranch snack wrap and as many packages of ketchup, mustard and sweet and sour sauce as he could stuff into the smaller pockets of his bag.

"Hey," a familiar voice called out and, in spite of himself, Aaron's head jerked up. Katie Joyner stared back at him from a nearby table, where she sat with a diet soda and a salad. "Another road trip?" she asked with a smirk.

"Are you offering?" he asked. Because there really _was _somewhere he needed to go.

"Sure. I'm always up for adventure. Where this time?" she asked easily, and he remembered. This was what he loved about her. She didn't ask questions, except the right ones.

"Manassas," he said, without hesitation.

"Who do you know in Manassas?" she questioned, eating her salad carefully, as Aaron dug into one of his burgers.

"Does it matter?" Aaron snapped. Immediately he regretted it. Who would want to help someone so rude and ungrateful.

"I suppose not," Katie answered easily. "None of my business anyway. We should get going, though. I assume you'll want to get there and back before your family misses you."

"Yes, that would be great," he nodded, hardly realizing that in a matter of seconds, he was nearly done with his hamburger. He barely remembered tasting it. The faintest trace of sense memory hung in the air, but it wasn't nearly as satisfying as savoring something.

Wordless now, he got up and followed Katie out to her car. He was looking for confirmation, but what if he was wrong. What if Aaron found what he had lived as a child? Would there be room for one more? Or would Aaron be shoved aside, while room was made for this new child?

* * *

><p>They made the half hour drive to Manassas, in great time, and Aaron directed her without trouble to the beautiful old house with an outdoor patio and painted shutters. All these years later, it hadn't fallen into disrepair. It was hard to believe that they still lived here after all this time. Hard to believe the house looked so normal, when it had inspired such fear in him as a child.<p>

"Park down the street a little," Aaron directed, taking out his binoculars. These, he had borrowed from Dave, who had used them from time to time when hunting, but hadn't been hunting in several years.

Katie did as he asked, intrigue showing all over her face.

Aaron stared, transfixed, for two long hours, eating chicken nuggets and hardly realizing it, until a car pulled into the drive. Until his parents got out. And from the back, a child.

He could have _been _Aaron at six, with the dark hair and the brown eyes. The missing teeth. The determined way he moved. The efficiency with which he did absolutely everything. Even the clothes he wore had an uncomfortable familiarity. As if Aaron had seen them somewhere before, or possibly, had worn them himself. The school uniform with the white shirt and navy blue pants. The good shoes.

"Come on, Sean," his father called easily, calmly. With a smile.

Aaron's heartbeat picked up speed. This child - this Sean - could have been him. But his parents had definitely aged. His father had a developed a gut, had less hair, and was graying in his beard. His mother was still dressed impeccably, but lines were new around her mouth and eyes. She was smaller than he remembered.

"Yes, come on," his mother insisted more softly. "You've got to keep up with your homework or no sleepover at Robert's this weekend…" she warned playfully.

Then, Sean did something Aaron, himself, never would have. He laughed. It was so sudden that Aaron almost dropped the binoculars, flinching. Fearing their reaction at such a blatant show of disrespect.

"I only have a little homework, and besides you always let me see Robert! He's my cousin! Right, Dad?"

"That's right, buddy. Let's get inside now. It's cold out here," he said putting a gentle hand on his son's back, and shutting the door.

Thirty seconds was all it took to let him know that though Sean Hotchner could have been Aaron's twin had they been born at the same time, they were nothing like each other. Sean had an ease with which he spoke and moved. An honest smile that reached his eyes. Because Sean did what he was supposed to do. Sean listened. Sean obeyed. Sean was the son they should have had all along, instead of the mistake that was Aaron.

Sean was loved. Sean was cared for. Sean wasn't pulled out of school over the summer so people forgot he existed. Sean didn't bear the marks of abuse and neglect. Aaron felt sure that inside the house, Sean had a room and a bed. He had food to eat. He had toys and books and all the things little boys should have, according to Emily. Aaron had not had any of those things. All he had were accusations that rang in his ears to this day. Angry, hateful words that he had not understood fully until he was older. Words that implied he was not truly their child, though proof of that was clear enough in Sean's face. If Sean was biologically theirs, then surely Aaron had not been the bastard they claimed he was. All he knew for sure was that there had been something intrinsically wrong with him that made his parents hate him. So, they tried again, hoping to get a child who was not a defective screw-up who ruined their lives.

They tried again, and they got Sean. This perfect boy.

That alone was all the proof Aaron needed. Because, though he and Sean were definitely related, Aaron felt sure, they were not brothers.

**A/N: So intense! What do you think of Aaron's impromptu road trip to Manassas? PS If any of you are fans of choral music, O Magnum Mysterium is as beautiful as Aaron describes it! There is a particular version done by the University of Utah Singers that is just amazing!**


	28. Building

It was midweek when Derek woke just after Aaron and waited impatiently for the bathroom downstairs. He could go upstairs, but he wasn't decent and the girls were up there. Besides, it should not take as long as it took Aaron to shower. Guys took five minutes, at most. Pacing the hall, Derek saw Aaron's backpack, partially unzipped.

Ever since October, a school bag out of place set Derek's nerves on edge. He walked over, squinting in the early light. He could swear he saw a hamburger wrapper in there. Aaron wasn't like Derek had been five years ago. He kept things neat, where Derek was a little sloppy. He might have forgotten a wrapper or two in his bag from time to time, but Aaron never would. Carefully, Derek unzipped the bag the rest of the way and sat back on his heels in a crouch, the scar on the outside of his leg throbbing. No books. No notebooks or folders. No pens or pencils. The whole thing was filled with fast food.

Quickly, he zipped it up and again, waited outside the bathroom door. He winced, and shifted his weight to his good leg. The scar hurt. The knee hurt. Quitting football had sure as hell hurt. It was the hardest regular thing he'd ever had to do. Sure, he'd taken shit from people. He'd had people use him. But this was the first real decision Derek made as a man, for himself, where it was right, but it also wrong, on many levels. What was he gonna do without football? He hadn't thought he had any other interests. But now, with his injury, and JJ's injury, Derek found himself paying extra attention to the therapists that worked with both of them. Maybe Derek couldn't play football anymore, but maybe he could make something of himself another way. Maybe he could help other people come back from an injury on the field or an accident. He'd looked it up already. VCU had a good program, close to home. He'd have to work for it. But Derek had never been afraid of a little hard work.

Aaron came out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam with him, and Derek was snapped back to the present.

"Hey. Come home right after school, all right?" Derek asked. He saw the panic flash in Aaron's eyes for a second before he swallowed and nodded.

"Sure." Then, he picked up his bag and headed out the back door.

Standing at the bathroom sink moments later, Derek couldn't miss the distinct odor of grease, fast food, and mold, mixed with the scent of Derek's own Oak for Men body wash. As much as he tried, Derek couldn't convince Aaron and Spencer to use their own Ocean and Citron stuff. For some reason, they wanted everything Derek had. It might have irked him once upon a time. Now, it just seemed part and parcel to having little brothers.

Cautiously, Derek squatted in front of the sink cabinet and pulled it open. He groped around it bravely until he pulled out two Big Macs and two large French fry containers with no fries to be found. Either they had mice, or Aaron was good and terrified about eating anything that might be taken away from him.

Derek was glad to have gone with his gut on this. He and Aaron were going to do some shopping today.

* * *

><p>"So, where'd you get the money to take a bus to Penelope's?" Derek asked, trying to keep the mood light. They were in the car on the way to the local grocery store, where he had taken over all the shopping for the family.<p>

"My emergency fund," Aaron shrugged.

"Hold up. Didn't you just use your emergency fund a month before that for that jacket you didn't tell Mom you needed?"

"So?" Aaron asked, sounding bored and watching the scenery out the window.

Derek shook his head, impressed. "How many emergency funds you got?"

"Several," Aaron said plainly, looking him in the eye. "Why? Don't _you_? What if you need something?"

"That's why we got a mom, Aaron. We don't need to fend for ourselves now," Derek told him.

"You're twenty. You still rely on Emily for things?" Aaron asked skeptically.

"Not everything," Derek allowed. "I wanna be self-sufficient, but I don't have multiple emergency funds just in case something might happen. That's no way to live."

"Just because it's not the way you would choose to live, doesn't mean it isn't right for me," Aaron maintained. "Where are we going, anyway?"

"To get groceries," Derek said easily.

"You just went on Monday," Aaron said, panic showing up a little in his eyes.

"Yeah, and we can go again. There ain't a limit on it." Derek told Aaron, keeping his tone easy. Aaron didn't need to be losing it about this.

When they arrived, Derek walked in and went for a cart. Aaron stayed at his side, but seemed overwhelmed by the sights and smells around him. It was like Aaron was a kid again. Like he'd never been shopping. Though Derek knew for a fact that Emily had taken them all plenty of times over the years. She was a firm believer that her kids have life skills they'd need later on.

Derek pushed the cart slowly down an aisle. "When I shop for the family, it's not about just me. It's about all of us. I take everybody's likes into account when I do it. Penelope doesn't eat red meat, so I stick to chicken, fish, turkey or some fancy vegetarian substitutes. Spencer's still a fan of anything green above all else, so I get plenty of green beans, broccoli, peas and such. JJ and me don't care so much one way or the other. I know you're not a fan of pre-packaged stuff so I try to stay away from a lot of that and buy fresh."

He watched Aaron out of the corner of his eye as he turned the cart down a new aisle. "Why don't you pick somethin' out?" Derek asked. He wasn't about to out Aaron over the moldy burgers in the bathroom or the backpack full of food. He was just gonna do what he could to make things right.

Aaron, though, he looked like a deer in the headlights. For half-a-second before the expression was replaced by another less readable one. He walked the aisle, looking over his shoulder at Derek every so often. "What do you think I should get?" he asked evenly.

"What do you _want_?" Derek asked, and his stomach sank as he watched Aaron bend down and heft a 20-pack of Ramen noodles into the cart.

Seamlessly, Derek bent and retrieved the Ramen, handing it to Aaron. "Not whatever's cheapest," he insisted, looking Aaron in the eye. "I know you hate that stuff. Something you _like_, all right?"

Aaron shrugged, replacing the Ramen on the shelf. "I don't like anything."

"No pressure, all right? You just look around. We got time. It doesn't have to be just one thing, either. You could get ingredients for a meal if you wanted."

Slowly, Derek walked the store, while Aaron tried real hard to appear like he didn't care. But Derek saw him eyeing certain things, and when he did, Derek made sure to stop there, and wait for Aaron to make the next move.

"I don't want to make anything," Aaron said, just above a whisper.

"No problem. One of us can do it," Derek encouraged.

After an hour and a half of walking the store, Aaron finally, deliberately, took out his phone and started texting. At Derek's questioning look, Aaron elaborated softly. "I want to know how Dave makes his spaghetti."

* * *

><p>They stopped by home to drop off the spaghetti ingredients and Dave was there, promising to have the meal ready for them in precisely two hours. With sides of garlic bread and salad, because Aaron also purchased those.<p>

"All right. Come on," Derek said, steering Aaron back toward the car. "We'll be home in plenty of time." He reached in the back seat of his car and got a water bottle and a granola bar, tossing them to Aaron wordlessly.

"Where are we going?" Aaron asked, tearing the granola bar open and taking a bite.

"To the gym. I gotta work out my knee. Thought you could keep me company," Derek revealed.

"Yeah," Aaron said around a mouthful. The granola bar was already gone.

"I got some sweats in the back for you, too," Derek added, figuring Aaron didn't want to feel set apart from the other people there - none of whom worked out in fancy collared shirts and khaki pants.

"Thanks," Aaron answered.

They ducked into the locker room, at the fitness center where Derek had a membership. "So, you excited?" Derek asked. He came dressed in sweats, but waited by the doors for Aaron to change.

"Yeah," Aaron's voice replied from the wrong direction.

Curious, Derek took a few steps in and looked around. Aaron wasn't by any of the lockers. Instead, Derek saw his shoes beneath the guys' bathroom stall.

If Derek had to put bets on which one of them changed in a bathroom stall, Derek figured for sure it would have been _him_. Aaron was still skinny for his age, but he wasn't as messed up about undressing in front of people like Derek still was. He wondered what else Aaron could be hiding.

But Aaron came out, as if nothing at all was wrong. Derek went along with it because he wanted Aaron to feel at ease around him instead of having his guard up all the damn time.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Let's go," Aaron nodded.

* * *

><p>"So, what do you buy Mom when you grocery shop?" Aaron asked, pedaling beside Derek on a stationary bike.<p>

Derek smiled, though the movement made pain course through his knee. "Mom likes fancy international stuff. You know how Dave likes Italian? Well, Mom likes French stuff."

"Like what? French fries?" Aaron asked, looking totally lost.

"You ever had a croissant? _That's _French. Or an éclair, " Derek told him.

"So, you're only working out like this because of your knee, right?" Aaron wondered abruptly, keeping his eyes focused on the mileage he'd ridden.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I mean, you're already in shape. It's not like you have to be here for any other reason."

"I'm here to hang out with you, and to get my knee stronger," Derek said, even though it seemed obvious to him.

"But every other part of you is already stronger, right?" Aaron asked, keeping his voice low. "Do you ever, like, lift or anything?"

"You want me to show you how to lift?" Derek asked, keeping his tone level.

"If you want," Aaron shrugged. "I mean, if it won't hurt your knee."

So, Derek got off the bike and went over to the weights. He started Aaron off small, and couldn't miss the look of disappointment that crossed his face at the five-pound free weights Derek chose.

"I want you to start off slow and easy. You'll get to lifting more, but for right now, stick with these."

Aaron stared at him, doing bicep curls and looking miserable.

"I didn't hit my growth spurt 'til the summer after my freshman year," Derek confided. "Remember? Before that, I could barely lift anything."

"No, I don't remember," Aaron said, his face blank and his eyes far away.

* * *

><p>When they got home, Derek hardly had time to think about what could be bothering Aaron. He'd all but forgotten about Dave's spaghetti until they walked in the house.<p>

"I made the garlic bread," Spencer announced proudly.

"And _I _made the spaghetti," JJ elaborated, looking exhausted but happy. She had on one of their mom's apron's over her sweats. Her hair was growing out into a cute little pixie style and new fancy glasses helped with her vision. "I even know the secret ingredient! It's-"

"Ah!" Dave reminded sharply, cutting JJ off. "I confided in you. You swore the sacred oath. You must never tell a soul," Dave intoned seriously.

"A pot is just a pot, until it's full and hot. Of pasta al dente and sauce a plenty. Ingredients galore. A pinch of this, and a dash of that. And not a drop goes on the floor," JJ recited. It was full of pauses and misspoken words, but Dave helped her through, patient and deliberate in a way Derek admired.

"_That's_ the oath?" Penelope exclaimed, laughing, and not quite believing it.

"JJ got to swear the spaghetti oath before I did?" Emily asked, looking a little hurt but mostly pleased that JJ remembered so many words and could string them together.

"Good thing you weren't here, Derek. You know, because you burn everything?" Spencer asked helpfully, sitting down at the table.

"He could've made the salad," Penelope offered. "Not much to mess up there."

"So, Aaron, what do you think?" Dave asked as they sat down.

"It looks great. Thank you," he answered, joining the family. When he smiled, Derek could see clearly how it didn't reach his eyes.

**A/N: A late-in-the-day chapter, but I hope it's worth it for you guys! Loved delving into Derek in this chapter! Let me know what you guys think! No account necessary, as usual! Love you guys!**


	29. Inside

It had been happening for six long months and Aaron didn't know how much more he could take. He didn't tell Emily because he remembered her words clearly. She had made him promise to come to her if anyone teased him or hurt him. Not for this.

"Hey, Hotchner. What are you doing in here?" Chris asked, walking by him with two lunch trays. Aaron stiffened. He wasn't supposed to be in the cafeteria. Aaron remembered fighting back once upon a time. Chris had always known more than the average kid his age. His parents were never shy about sharing what they knew about Aaron with Chris. It hadn't taken much digging on their part. All they had to do was watch the news and pay attention. Chris was the same kid who had told Aaron he didn't have a family back in the third grade. Aaron remembered giving Chris a bloody nose and being suspended, but not really feeling badly about it. He had proven he could take Chris, but that was before Chris was friends with Martin.

Chris was thin and muscular - more a physical match for Aaron - but Martin was taller and stocky. Kids called Chris the brain and Martin the enforcer. Because Chris made the plan, and did everything that didn't involve physical strength. Martin made sure that whomever they targeted knew Chris was serious. Martin did the shoving, the grabbing, and the squeezing. It didn't hurt. It never did, because of Aaron's abnormally high pain tolerance, but it did scare him.

It was why he asked Derek about weight lifting. Because he had to be able to fight back. He knew, from overhearing some of Spencer's former teachers that they were sorry for what happened to him, but felt that if he had just "worked harder to fit in" none of the rest would have happened. That's how Aaron knew that people who hurt others would always be above any kind of consequence. And that even if a consequence were applied to Chris or Martin, Aaron would ultimately be blamed, just as faculty and students alike, for their school's lack of a football team, were blaming Spencer.

Aaron blamed himself enough as it was, he couldn't handle anyone else doing it, too. Besides the fact that he wasn't actually being hurt. Aaron had meant what he told Emily months before, after what he went through as a kid, high school really was no big deal. At the time, it really wasn't.

When Chris and Martin cornered Aaron on the first day of school and demanded that he tell Chris his four-digit pin number for his school lunch account, Aaron had given it without much protest. He could still hear Chris's quiet rationale, as Martin got right in his face.

"You don't need food, right? You've starved before. We need this more than you do."

So, that was how it started. At the time, part of Aaron believed Chris. It _was_ true. He _had_ starved as a child, so he had it on good authority that missing one meal wouldn't kill him. But then, the money ran out the first time, and they cornered him in the locker room for the first time, demanding that he get more money into that account or he would be sorry.

That night, Aaron had gone home and asked Emily to write him a check for lunch, and then did the math in his room to determine exactly how much each meal was and when he would need to ask if she could put more money in it. It worked for a while. But lately, Chris was getting enough food for two people. He was going through the account twice as fast. Emily would have questions, and Aaron would have to pay.

He appreciated Emily's insisting he go to counseling, and making food available. He loved feeling like Penelope would listen to him. And Aaron really was grateful for Derek spending time with him and taking him shopping. But in the end, it simply didn't matter. Because no matter how much time and effort his family put into convincing him he would always be fed, it was all undone the minute he walked into school each day, knowing he wouldn't get to eat lunch. Knowing his entire freshman year, he had not been allowed that dignity. There would always be Chris and Martin, calling him by his former name, telling him he wasn't allowed to be in the cafeteria, when there really was no other option. They didn't have open lunch. All students had to go to the cafeteria during their lunch periods. So, basically, Aaron was screwed.

From lunch, it was directly to gym class. Aaron ran as fast as he could to arrive there before anyone else. He closed himself into a stall, with his uniform and changed quickly, not bothering to look at the bruises on arms and shoulder. He crouched on top of the toilet when he heard the other boys arrive. Aaron remained there, motionless until heard their footsteps receding. It was only a few minutes, but it was long enough to remember his own childhood. Being confined to a tiny area of an unused bathroom for days or weeks at a time. But he was glad for the experience, because from it, he gained the ability to wait and to be silent for long periods of time.

He got through gym class itself, with little trouble. They did a running test, and Aaron had the quickest time. He had always been a fast runner. But he kept his head down. He didn't move as the rest of the students clocked in with times slower than his. Or when Chris finished dead last. When class was dismissed, Aaron made a break for the locker room. For his bathroom stall. He closed himself in and was changed in no time, maintaining his agile squat on top of the toilet. He held his breath, feeling the phantom pain of wire digging into his skin. When he heard nothing for twenty minutes, Aaron eased out of the stall, and came face to face with Chris.

Aaron felt so lightheaded, he was afraid he might pass out. He had always outsmarted them. For weeks since gym started. And now, he was caught. Like the coward he was, he stood still. Not moving. Barely even breathing. Aaron had already proven that he could outrun them, but he didn't want to take the risk. Because if he did, tomorrow would be even worse. He should have failed the gym test on purpose. He knew that instantly.

None of them spoke a word, as Martin grabbed Aaron hard and wrenched his arms behind his back, holding him in place, and Chris deliberately dropped his fly, and urinated on him. The whole thing took seconds, and was completely silent. Then, Chris and Martin left for good, leaving Aaron feeling dirty, and unsure of what to do with his wet clothes.

In the end, he showered quickly; grateful the locker rooms were equipped with them, and changed back into his gym uniform. He could just as easily wear it home and tell his mom it was because it needed to be washed.

The shower would set him back some. There wouldn't be time for McDonald's today. He was on his bike before he realized that in his rush to shower, he had left his backpack in the locker room.

Aaron rode home, feeling hopeless, a pit of hunger growing in him.

* * *

><p>He didn't know how, but Aaron had arrived home hours late. It happened sometimes, after a particularly bad day. Aaron would just blank out to cope. He usually could handle everything, but today had just been too much.<p>

The first thing Aaron wanted to do was take another shower, but he found himself reaching under the bathroom sink. Instead of his two Big Macs, he felt a paper bag. Desperation and curiosity warred inside him and Aaron pulled it out. It was from McDonald's labeled with today's date. Two fresh burgers were inside, along with a note, scribbled on the receipt.

_These are fresh. If you wanna save one, I put my mini fridge in your room. _

_Derek_

Aaron felt tears fill his eyes as he ate. This time, he forced himself to savor it; feeling like his life had been saved. Carefully, he replaced the wrapper and the remaining burger in the bag and stuck it in the cabinet. Then, he thought better of it and went to his room and found the fridge, stocked with some leftover spaghetti and bottles of water. The outside was labeled in Derek's handwriting: _AARON'S. DO NOT TOUCH._

Swallowing back the lump in his throat, Aaron showered again, letting a few tears fall as long as he had the privacy. This day had been so awful, but Derek giving up his mini fridge, where Aaron knew Derek had kept the tiny freezer stocked with ice packs for his knee? That was beyond kind. Beyond what Aaron deserved.

He took the clothes hamper from his room and added the gym uniform and the soaked clothes from earlier. He put them all in the wash and walked upstairs, prepared to find Derek. To tell him to take the fridge back.

"Did you see Derek gave you his refrigerator?" Spencer asked from in front of a stack of books. The thought of the teachers at school blaming him had Aaron stopping short. To listen, instead of blowing him off. "He says that none of the rest of us can touch it. Not even mom. Not even _him. _He says it's just for you, and that only the two of you will sit down once a week to go through it, to determine if anything needs to be replaced. The moldy burgers made him think of it, because I told him it was either that, or I was going to ask you if I could do experiments on what makes them petrify so well in some instances and mold well in others." Spencer continued absently, highlighting lines of text as he spoke.

"I don't want the fridge," Aaron said, matter of fact.

"Derek says you _do_ want it, and he says you're keeping it," Spencer returned softly.

"Derek doesn't know everything," Aaron sighed, turning around to look for his older brother.

But he only saw JJ on the couch, looking exhausted. Then he remembered Emily saying that she and Derek were running errands this afternoon and Penelope might come, too. Aaron hadn't thought they would actually go through with it, leaving himself, Spencer and JJ alone in the house, but they had.

Aaron was about to turn around and head back downstairs when JJ stood up, surprising him.

"Hey," she said, squinting.

He took a few steps toward her on instinct, in case she needed a hand, but she shocked him again by grabbing his sleeve and pulling him closer to her. On instinct, he stiffened. Aaron had thought an old tee shirt would be fine to wear at home, but evidently, he was wrong, because even JJ and her poor eyesight was able to spot the bruises on his upper arms. He had walked around for so long with them and not really felt them that he'd gotten lazy. That's what he got for wearing his uniform home.

"It's nothing," he said reflexively.

"Come here," she said with an authority he had never heard, and he worried for a split second if she was going to hit him.

He took two steps toward her and waited while she examined his bruises.

"Tell me what happened," she insisted, holding onto his arm, as much for balance as to make sure he didn't go anywhere.

"I'm fine, JJ. It's no big deal," he sighed.

"Who…" she paused, searching him with an intense look, and he knew what she was thinking. Who did this?

But Aaron's first question was never who would do this. It was who _wouldn't_?

"No one," he said calmly.

"You're not no one," JJ maintained, and Aaron glanced up sharply. She had misspoken. It happened all the time now. But then he saw the look in her eyes and wondered if that wasn't what she meant to say all along.

Aaron stood there, clenching his jaw.

He could see JJ concentrating hard on whatever she was about to say next. "Tell Mom," she decided.

"No," he looked her in the eye.

"Yes," she shot back. "Or I will. You…tell Mom by this weekend. Or I will."

Aaron scoffed, and the thought was in his head before he could censor it. _She'll forget it by then._

"Whatever," he shrugged like he didn't care, pushing past Spencer on the way back downstairs.

Aaron had handled this for six months. He could take it until June.

**A/N: My heart is breaking for Aaron right now. But I'm glad his family is following their instincts with him. Update that you all might like: the story is going to be two chapters longer than I intended originally! Hooray for five more chapters instead of only three!**


	30. Secrets

Jordan was getting used to spending time at JJ's. Slowly - she really wasn't sure how it happened - she had shifted from referring to it as JJ's to Derek's. Neither of them seemed to mind, so Jordan wasn't worried. She loved spending time with the whole family, getting to know them, as well as getting a second chance to really know JJ.

They had been put together at Pitt as roommates, they hadn't chosen each other. For the first few days, JJ made it her personal goal to avoid Jordan as much as possible and tell whoever she talked to that she wished she'd gotten someone "less bitchy" as a roommate. While Jordan had pictures of family and friends hung up all over, JJ had none, and kept her side of the room very sparse. Jordan knew next to nothing about her, except that Stan Hoban took a liking to her, and then, slowly, JJ seemed to lose what little bit of herself she still possessed. Suddenly, everything was about what Stan liked and how Stan liked it. Jordan knew Stan from as far back as elementary school, and he had been a bad egg even then. But she knew better than to talk JJ out of dating him.

Jordan was confident and sure, she could spot the fakers a mile a way. And JJ? She faked it hard. JJ's confidence had looked like petulance a lot of the time. Like desperation. Jordan was pretty sure in the month and a half they had lived together, she hadn't spoken to JJ sober but a few times. Once, just after classes started, JJ came in very drunk, smelling like a bar. Jordan remembered holding JJ's hair for her as she was sick, and listening as she said more than she meant to about her life growing up. About her sister, who had killed herself. Jordan remembered the chill that ran up her arms as JJ talked about it. She remembered the date: September 8th. That night was the anniversary. It was that underlying vulnerability that made Jordan keep a friendly attitude toward JJ. When she saw the pain JJ carried, Jordan made a decision to be there for her in the way Jordan would have wanted, if the tables were turned.

Now, it was like getting to know the real person underneath the posturing. JJ's guard was down because it had to be. Because she had no choice in it. And Jordan found herself liking this JJ much better than her roommate. Though it was tragic, Jordan had always been a firm believer in inner strength and making your own luck. She didn't know much about JJ, but she knew her friend had risen from hardship before. And Jordan had no doubt that JJ could do it again. Jordan promised to be there, because everybody needed a friend in their corner. So, even when she was out for a drive with Derek later in the evening and got a text that read simply _?_ from JJ, Jordan cut her eyes to Derek in the driver's seat.

"Hold that thought one second," she said. "Just texting JJ back."

"What's she say?" Derek asked, curious.

"Question mark," Jordan read.

Derek nodded and was quiet as Jordan sent a reply, promising that they would talk as soon as she and Derek got home.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Jordan asked, turning her phone on silent.

"Just that mom thinks VCU's PT program is a great option, but I don't know how I'm gonna pay for it, you know?"

"Because you were on scholarship before," Jordan deduced. "You can always work. I've been driving back and forth between here and school and setting up interviews for summer positions."

Derek's eyes clouded as he focused on the road.

"What's that look for?" she asked, feeling, as she often did with Derek, like she was walking blindfolded through the dark, and there were landmines.

"Right. Work," he muttered, in a way that brought the hair up off her arms.

"Pull over," she said. Her mind was made up. They weren't about to drive and talk about whatever was bothering him.

Wordless, he did has she asked. But she was stunned speechless he leaned across the seat and kissed her. He kissed her, when it had taken him months to just hold her hand. The kiss was hot. It was passionate. But it was also wrong and empty. Gasping, she shoved him back hard.

"What?" he asked, a strange cadence in his voice she hadn't heard him use before.

"Derek," Jordan stressed his name. Said it sharply. "_Derek_."

"I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head a little as he seemed to come to. He sat there, gripping the steering wheel tightly.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, touching her finger to her lips.

"I'm sorry," he repeated. "God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean… …and I know you don't get it…"

"So _explain_ it to me," Jordan pressed. "I want to understand, Derek. If you want to let me in…"

He reached up, flipping the interior light on, flooding the car with harsh artificial glare that hurt her eyes. He seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle with himself. "I gotta see you," he managed, still sounding a little short of breath.

Jordan waited.

"JJ tell you anything about me?" he asked.

"No," Jordan told him honestly. "Actually she never mentioned any of you much at all."

"Okay…" Derek managed, swallowing. "What you just said…about work…that was kinda a buzzword for me," he confessed. "The thing is…I used to only know one kind of work…after I lost my parents but before I moved in with Emily… The dark and dirty kind. It was only for a couple years, but I…that kind of thing…it stays with you, you know?"

Jordan sat, listening. Trying to piece together what he was telling her. "No, I don't know," she told him truthfully. "I can't imagine."

"For the longest time…before I found sports…I thought that kind of thing…that it would be the only thing I'd be able to do," Derek admitted, breaking eye contact with her for the first time.

"That doesn't sound like work," Jordan told him firmly. "That sounds like abuse. And just so we're clear? That's not the kind of work I was referring to. I meant honorable work. I meant it as a compliment, Derek, because I know you're determined and whatever you set your mind to, you'll accomplish."

"Some things are just triggers," he admitted, swallowing again.

"Do you, um, have someone you talk to about this?" Jordan wondered.

"Yeah, I do. She suggested being more open with people I love… So, maybe, the combination of driving around in the dark, talking about work isn't the best thing for me…" Derek looked her in the eye.

Jordan nodded. "All right. What do you want to talk about? Wait…people you _love_…"

"Love in a protective, platonic sense…not necessarily romantic…yet…but those feelings are there…I just gotta be more…_deliberate_ about acting on those."

"I can do protective, platonic love," Jordan agreed, smiling. "So, what do you need now?" she asked.

"Can we make it a short night?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she nodded. "That way, I can talk to JJ and you can…do whatever you need to do to get back on firm ground."

"Thanks, Jordan," he said sincerely. "And I'm sorry, for earlier. For the kiss."

"When you're ready, we can try again," she promised easily.

And finally, some of the anxiety left his gaze.

* * *

><p>Jordan and Derek entered the house. Emily was in the kitchen with Penelope. Penelope held a walkie-talkie and was holding some kind of deep conversation with Spencer about the importance of presenting himself well tomorrow, and how that included showering more than once a week.<p>

"Can I use Derek's body wash?" Spencer's voice crackled with static.

Derek grabbed the walkie-talkie from Penelope. "Sure, kid. Use it. Then you can know what it's like to smell like a man."

JJ was there, too, chin resting on her hand, as she stared hard at Emily. Jordan watched as Derek kissed them all on the tops of their heads - leaving Jordan out of it - and headed downstairs.

"Derek, hold on," Emily called. "Spencer's got to get over to the high school tomorrow for a meeting with the principal on his progress. I have to take JJ in for a check-up." Jordan was close enough to hear even when Emily took him aside and dropped her voice. "I also wanted to thank you for everything you're doing for Aaron. It means a lot that you're looking out for him. I try to talk to him every day, but he's just not open with me like he is with you."

"No problem," Derek said, and headed downstairs, saying goodnight to everyone.

* * *

><p>Jordan was mildly surprised when JJ stood suddenly and took her hand, leading her out of the kitchen and towards the bedroom that she currently shared with Penelope. They found Peaches, the cat, curled up on Penelope's green sleeping bag.<p>

"What's up?" Jordan asked, not missing JJ's serious expression. "I haven't seen you look this serious since Stan was a total ass and ditched you at that party to dance with other girls."

JJ wrinkled her nose. "I can't even go online. He's always there. Why do you talk to him about me?"

"I don't talk to him about you," Jordan maintained. "He _asks_ me about you and I ignore him."

JJ sighed, seeming relieved, though her face stayed neutral. "Good… So…I was wondering something…" she hedged. Though now, Jordan could never be sure if JJ was actually hedging, or just planning what she wanted to say.

Jordan nodded, waiting.

"What if… What if… Damn it!" JJ swore, frustrated whenever she couldn't get her brain to cooperate and say what she was thinking.

It had taken quite a bit of trial and error before Jordan figured out the best way to support JJ through moments like these was by staying calm. By not trying to assume she knew what JJ had to say. So, she covered JJ's hand with her own, to let her know Jordan wasn't leaving, and waited.

"I have…a secret…" JJ spoke after a full minute. "about someone else's secret… I think they should tell…but I don't think they will…"

"Do you think they're in danger?" Jordan asked.

"What?"

"Don't overthink it. Just answer. Do you think they're in danger?" Jordan pushed gently.

"Yes," JJ said, speaking easier now.

"What do you want to do about it?" Jordan asked, knowing how important it was to treat JJ as an equal and a friend. To talk to her the same way Jordan would have pre-accident.

"I…promised… I said I'd wait until the weekend. Give them time to tell on their own. But if…if they didn't. I would tell."

"What did they say to that?" Jordan asked.

"Walked away…" JJ admitted. "I don't want to like, double-cross this, you know?" She shook her head, wincing. "Sorry."

"You're fine. I'm not going anywhere." Jordan reassured, waiting out JJ's mistake with practiced ease.

"I don't want to be a liar," JJ confessed, her worry suddenly clear. "I promised to give them a chance to tell themselves. But I don't know if I should wait, or not."

"What would you tell me?" Jordan asked.

"What does your gut tell you?" JJ asked seamlessly.

"Absolutely." Jordan nodded. "Trust yourself. If you think it's a bad enough situation you should speak up sooner, then do it. But if you think it's more important to give this person the chance you promised them, then do that."

"So complicated, though…" JJ sighed.

"You got that right. I said the wrong thing to Derek tonight and now I feel like a loser," Jordan admitted.

"Did you know?" JJ asked, sprawling out on her bed.

"No, I didn't know it was wrong at the time, but I still feel terrible," Jordan said. Now it was her turn to sigh.

"I don't know what's right…and I feel terrible, too…" JJ echoed, squeezing Jordan's hand.

* * *

><p>Derek slipped downstairs, checking on Aaron, who was working on homework, and short on words. He barely looked in Derek's direction. Spencer was still in the shower, and Derek imagined that come tomorrow, half his body wash would be gone.<p>

Slowly, he retreated to his room and closed the door. He paced. He stuck the desk chair underneath the handle of the bedroom door, just like he had the night he moved in. Truth was, he wasn't worried about the body wash. He was worried about the kiss. He was worried about the way it made his body feel. He was worried about the bathroom. He needed to get in there. Bad. The taste of his tongue in someone else's mouth, however short-lived it was, set Derek on edge. His stomach twisted, and he lunged for the trash can, not having another option.

Then, his body set to shaking. It shook hard, and for a long time, and all Derek could do was sit there and wait it out. He couldn't lie on the bed. He couldn't even take out his trash. He couldn't, because he felt like he had just escaped a predator. Even though he had initiated the contact. Even though he had slipped into the mindset. This time, he had done everything. So, why did Derek feel like he was the one who had just escaped a predator? Why couldn't he stop shaking?

He could call Anna. He could do a lot of things. If he could move. If he could think past the paralyzing feeling of being used. Of working. Of being a thing. Of not having a name. He had not kissed anyone since he was twelve years old. He had been taught, two years prior, the same way he learned everything else in that life. He was taught to kiss by experiencing it first. They weren't the sweet, gentle, or long and in love kisses his parents had shared. These were rough and invading. Like the hands. Like every other part of that life. Though it had been almost ten years since Derek had kissed anyone, the memory was there, as vivid as any that he relived over the years.

Though it was scary as hell, Derek coped the way he had been taught, not the way he once had. He tried to breathe. He tried to remind himself of everything Anna told him about Post-Traumatic Stress and flashbacks. They felt real, but they weren't. He could get through them. He had people all around who loved him. If he felt brave enough, then maybe, he could reach out to one of them.

Derek thought of his family. Spencer and Aaron, too young and too burdened themselves to handle one more thing. He thought of Emily upstairs with Penelope. Of JJ with Jordan. He didn't want to interrupt that.

Instead, he forced his hand to move. To find his phone. To press a button.

The voice on the other end of the call was a godsend, even as it grumbled, "I'm not as young as I used to be, you know..."

"Hey Dave..." he managed.

"Derek. Is everything okay?" Dave asked.

Swallowing, Derek managed to speak again. "No," was all he could manage.

"Well, how can I help?"

"Can you just talk to me? About somethin' good. Please?" Derek begged, his voice shaking.

"Of course, kiddo. Of course I can," Dave said, his voice softening in recognition. "Did I ever tell you about the time Carolyn was pregnant and she woke me up at 3 AM with an urgent craving for garlic baby dill pickles and cream cheese?" Dave laughed to himself. "She was saying, 'David. Can't you just do this one thing for me? I just want a jar of pickles and a container of cream cheese. Is that so hard?' Well, as a matter of fact, it was, because we were in college and every place was closed. I didn't have a car. So I got on Carolyn's pink banana seat bike and rode all over town trying to find her damn pickles and cream cheese."

"Did you find 'em?" Derek asked, a small smile on his face.

"Oh, she wouldn't let me back into the apartment until I swore up and down I had them with me. And this was before the days of cell phones and texting. I was sticking quarters into payphones all over, telling her this store is closed and that store is closed, and she's telling me, 'David, I swear, I'll divorce you.' By the time I brought them back, she'd fallen fast to sleep again."

"Were you pissed?" Derek asked, feeling at peace, with a picture of Carolyn in his mind, not his own demons.

"Oh, yeah," Dave answered honestly. "But it became a kind of inside joke between us. Whenever she needed a laugh, I'd remind her how she sent me on a wild goose chase for the sake of a phantom craving. Still think of her whenever I eat pickles."

"I bet Mom loves that story..." Derek said, finally able to move again. He tied up the trash bag and went out the back to throw it in the outside garbage.

"Your mom doesn't _know_ that story. That was a special one. Just between your grandma and me," Dave said, fondness in his voice that Derek could not miss. It was just what he needed. A reminder of what real love was.

"Thanks, Dave," Derek said, relief coursing through him.

"No problem," Dave returned. "You can always call me. It's good to feel needed."

"You'll always be needed. Don't know what I'd do without you," Derek told him honestly, then he hung up and closed his eyes.

That night, instead of terror, he dreamed of his grandparents.

**A/N: Okay. So this is another extra chapter that I was not planning to add! Still five chapters to go! What do you think of Jordan's perspective? Also, I came back to add on this last section exploring Derek's feelings in the aftermath of the kiss. I really love how it turned out. What about you?**


	31. Proof

In the shower that evening, Spencer lathered himself liberally with Derek's body wash. In his defense, Derek said he could use it. In addition, he really did need any help he could in feeling like a man. He needed to have substantial amounts of courage for what he was about to do.

Yes, he and Penelope had been talking about the importance of good hygiene, but they had also been deep in a conversation cloaked in Morse code, because most people did not know it. However, Penelope was an exception. She knew many things that Spencer found useful, and would teach him if he asked. It turned out that Morse code was beneficial, when he was talking about his plan for the next day and how to best use certain pieces of technology.

This was Spencer's secret: he had known about Aaron. Before anyone else in the family, Spencer had seen that pea-brained freshman, Christopher Gullickson, going through the lunch line and saying Aaron's code, not their own. He had not meant to learn Aaron's code, but they arrived on the same day, and Aaron opened his and just left it out where anyone could see it. Therefore, Spencer had inadvertently committed 1-2-0-3 to memory. It was far from the most difficult thing Spencer had needed to memorize, and those four digits slipped into Spencer's filing cabinet as if they wanted to be there. It was not as if Spencer could unlearn them once they were there. They remained etched in his memory, just as the image of his older brother, sitting alone, studying in a separate alcove, nowhere near the other students, with no trace of food was seared in Spencer's mind.

He had not known it was still going on. Not until the upheaval with Mom going through and finding Aaron's giant hoard of spoiled food. Then, Spencer had put the pieces together in no time. Moreover, he had not known about the bruises. Had not even noticed them until JJ had drawn his attention to it. Sometimes, her inability to modulate things like volume proved to be a good thing, even when she was trying to be secretive. Spencer had overheard the entire conversation. He had slipped out of the kitchen and stood, partially obscured behind a corner, to watch and listen to their conversation. Aaron's bruises made him wince. One in particular was the perfect imprint of four fingers around Aaron's upper- arm. Spencer knew immediately who it must have been. The pea brain's sidekick, Martin Fink, who was the size of a giant. To Spencer, at least. He had learned to stay out of his way early. Of course, that hadn't ultimately mattered, since Martin wasn't one of the numerous kids who had tied up Spencer in October.

Spencer hadn't thought to worry about Aaron being hurt.

Mentally, he went over and over Penelope's advice, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach. Knowing he was preparing to do the very thing that had almost ruined his life. The very thing that Aaron said he hated. Still, Spencer knew from his own experience, it was the only choice he had.

That night, he tossed and turned, feeling comforted by the coded messages coming through the walkie-talkie at odd hours.

_Be prepared_. _Have strategy. Stay calm._

He woke early the next day, in time to hear Aaron get up and get ready for school. Spencer had taken a note from Derek, and slipped a packet of fruit snacks in the pocket of Aaron's pants that were laid out the night before. He hoped, even if Aaron could not decode the meaning behind the fruit snacks, that Aaron might know he wasn't alone.

The entire morning, Spencer was tense. Not just for his plan, but also for the standardized testing he would have to complete. He had skipped freshman and sophomore years, when the tests were generally administered. Therefore, here he was - hopefully - mere months away from graduating, and having to make up a ridiculous basic skills assessment. He tended to read far too deeply into questions, and get flustered by any time constraints. So far, Mom had been great at helping him prepare, but it hadn't done much to set his mind at ease. Because it wasn't only this test, it was the one coming later. The one to see if he was brave enough to do very thing that was done to him, if it meant help for his brother.

"Are you almost ready for your meeting?" Mom asked easily, watching him from over the rim of her coffee cup.

"Mom," he said, working very hard to keep his tone in check. "I know you're trying to make this easier for me by calling it a meeting, but the fact is, it just makes me more apprehensive. It's a test. I don't feel prepared and I don't want to discuss it," Spencer said moodily.

"Okay. I respect that," she said, kissing his forehead and hurrying to finish any household chores she could before she had to leave.

"Mom? I know you're busy with JJ later, but do you think you could drop me off? Derek can pick me up. I'd just feel better if you were with me for part of the time at least…"

"Of course, honey. Just be ready to go in half an hour," she urged and left to go downstairs, a laundry basket in tow.

Spencer was on his feet in seconds and set about looking for JJ. He found her easily, curled on the living room couch.

"Hey," he greeted softly. "Are you feeling okay?"

She shook her head, wordlessly and he sat down beside her. "Listen," he said, sitting down next to her. "I have to ask you to do something for me, okay? Don't tell Mom about Aaron yet."

JJ opened her mouth to protest and Spencer cut her off, his tone gentle.

"I know you want to. I know you're worried. However, if we tell now, without any way to prove what happened, those kids are going to get away with hurting him. I have a plan. Penelope helped me with it."

"Penelope snores," JJ put in darkly, crossing her arms.

"So _that's _why you relocated," Spencer smiled. "Anyway, by the end of today, Mom's going to know, and those kids won't be able to hurt Aaron anymore. Okay? So, you promise?"

"Okay," JJ echoed. "Hey, Spence?"

"Yes?" he asked, already on his feet and prepared to walk away.

"Tests suck. But just do your best, okay? I believe in you," she offered.

"Thank you," he said, and meant it. "Hey, can I borrow this?" he asked, spotting the gray hooded sweatshirt that lay over the edge of the couch.

"Sure, go ahead," she said, lying back down.

"Thanks, JJ," he said again, and before he left, Spencer stopped in the kitchen for Tylenol and a glass of water. He knew the signs of JJ having a headache when he saw them.

* * *

><p>The several hours of testing itself passed without incident. It was exactly the material he had studied for months, except for slight differences in the wording of the questions. In other words, perfect for someone with an eidetic memory. By the time the test ended, Spencer looked at his watch. The bell signaling the end of the school day had just rung. He had just a few minutes before Derek would arrive to pick him up. Spencer hoped it would be enough.<p>

He pulled the hood up on JJ's sweatshirt. This was an integral part of his plan. He had to blend into the general population if he wanted it to work. He felt in the pocket and closed his hand around what he needed the most. Then, he ran to the opposite end of the school. Along with Aaron's lunch code, Spencer had also inadvertently memorized his brother's class schedule for the entire year. He knew that the most likely place for Aaron to get bruises where a teacher didn't see was probably the same for both of them. The locker room.

Spencer lingered by the door until everyone filtered out. Then he took up his position behind a row of lockers closest to the stalls. Aaron's backpack was visible underneath it. He soundlessly clicked through to the video camera feature on his phone and made sure he zoomed in as closely as possible.

What Spencer saw simultaneously fascinated and horrified him. Christopher and Martin did exactly what Spencer predicted, but not the _way_ Spencer predicted they would do it. Yes, it was in the locker room, at the end of the day. Yes, they waited to get him alone. But they were also completely silent in their attack. And so was Aaron in the receiving of it.

Spencer watched, his stomach in knots, as Martin went into the stall beside Aaron and then climbed from one into the other. Spencer heard punches landing, and hated himself for willing them both to come out into the open. For willing it to continue for just long enough for Spencer to record what was happening.

All at once the stall door burst open, as Aaron was pushed through it with so much momentum that he hit the opposite wall. Tears filled Spencer's eyes as he watched Martin grab Aaron's neck with one hand and squeeze it. Spencer forced himself to stay quiet. Forced himself to recall Penelope's instructions. He was prepared. He had a strategy. Now, he just had to stay calm. He remembered other directions, too, and zoomed in on Martin's face, to be sure there was no mistaking his identity.

Aaron had stood still, until he couldn't anymore. Then he reacted viscerally, panicking and trying to get free. Christopher stepped in soundlessly and started landing punches to Aaron's midsection. Spencer repeated the process, recording the worst of the action and then getting a close up of Christopher's face.

That's when Spencer knew he couldn't wait. He needed to abort and employ his exit strategy now. He couldn't stand by and let this happen. That had been the worst part of what happened to him. Aside from the videos that turned up online. The countless people who had watched and had done nothing to help. Instinctively, Spencer knew he didn't have time to run back to the office. Instead, he took a risk, and stopped the camcorder function. Quickly the went to the drafts section of his phone and sent the pre-typed text message, relieved that he had thought ahead and prepared a second option for help, instead of relying solely on one.

As with everything else, Spencer had this, too, committed firmly to his memory. It read:

_Code orange. Boys' locker room. Aaron._

Some things, he had not been able to fully lose. His predilection for reading symbolism into colors was one. While most had lost their significance, orange had remained a code word for danger, which he relied upon, in times of extreme duress. Specifically between himself and Derek. He remembered helping Derek when Derek had used the word orange in this context, and he hoped that now, Derek would know he was serious and return the favor.

Aaron was doubled over on the floor. When Martin forced Aaron to stand erect and Chris punched him again, Spencer turned away, unable to watch anymore. It hurt him in a way Spencer never expected to see Aaron treated this way. Of course, he expected to feel saddened and helpless but he hadn't expected to feel completely panicked and lost. He hadn't expected the pang inside him that had him wishing fervently that he were bigger and stronger so that he could save his brother now. He wished he could do more than the one thing he was doing. Spencer had thought doing the right thing would feel good and right, but this only made him feel ill. It made a slow rage build up inside him. But instead of losing it, Spencer forced himself to close his eyes and breathe deeply, counting down the seconds along with his out of control emotions.

Spencer's own run here had taken several minutes, but he hoped help would come faster. He hoped Derek's knee had magically healed so he could run even faster than usual. So that he could come and help them both.

Because Spencer knew that along with Aaron, he too, would be in very real danger if he were discovered.

**A/N: I could hardly wait to write this chapter, which is why it's posted so early in the day! I loved the idea of Spencer helping in a way that had parallels to what happened to him. What do you guys think? I really can't wait to see the finished project. But I don't want it to be done! Four chapters to go!**


	32. Hero

Derek had been about ready to call Spencer and tell him to get himself out here when Derek's cell phone buzzed with a text message.

Locker room? Aaron?

What the hell was Spencer doing in the locker room? What was happening to Aaron that Spencer would signify a code orange? Derek remembered the last thing in his life that he had described that way. His own brief return to that world he'd told Jordan about. That had been major. Derek had no doubt that this was, too.

Derek didn't wait. He was out of the car in seconds, and trying desperately to balance his need for speed with his need to make sure he didn't do irreparable damage to his knee in the process of getting to his brothers. First, though, he stopped by the office.

"Hi, Derek, what can I do for you?" a secretary Derek didn't recognize asked. He always forgot. He'd been something of a legend on the football team here. That's why it had pissed him off so much when a lot of that same team went after his little brother.

"Spencer just sent me this text. I don't know how, but he's down in the boys' locker room with Aaron, and something's going on. I need to get down there," he said, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the visitor's log before fixing his attention on the far end of the school. He didn't waste time texting back. His fingers were so big and those damn buttons were so small. He just got going, the assistant principal following close behind. He hoped he'd get there in time.

* * *

><p>When the sound came from Aaron - like an animal in a trap that Spencer had seen on the Discovery Channel - that was when it happened. Spencer hadn't even known he was about to do it. He simply stuck the phone in its case, and stored that in the pocket of JJ's sweatshirt. That remained the most important thing. That, and the knowledge that he could not afford to wait for Derek. As if moved by someone else, Spencer stepped out from behind the lockers.<p>

"Hey!" he called, much more loudly than he thought he was capable of in the face of such terror, and of such silence. All this violence, and still, not one of them had spoken a word.

Martin and Christopher both turned toward the noise. Aaron's head snapped up. His eyes went wide and he shook his head in warning, even as he coughed and tried in vain to get his own breath.

"Hey… Look… It's the freak," Christopher said, in a soft voice that terrified Spencer to his core.

When Martin took meaningful steps in Spencer's direction, Spencer lost all control of his bladder. He froze.

Martin was just like the football players in size and Christopher was just like them in the level of sick pleasure he got from hurting someone else. Spencer knew, firsthand, what damage bullies could do. He had lived through it himself. Now, he'd had the unfortunate advantage of watching just how they terrorized Aaron, so Spencer knew just how they planned to hurt him, too.

"Look, this one doesn't even need us to do it. He just peed on himself…" Martin observed quietly.

Christopher laughed and without warning, shoved him back hard. Spencer's head connected hard with the wall behind him. It hurt, but he reminded himself, it hurt more to watch Aaron getting beat up like this. It hurt more to know that Spencer himself had beaten Aaron up, knowing that he was being mistreated at school, too.

Spencer thought quickly, intentionally crossing his arms over his midsection. These two would undoubtedly think Spencer was trying to protect his ribs, but the phone remained Spencer's number one objective. Without it, this whole thing would be pointless.

His mind was racing but he didn't know the first thing to do in this situation. He didn't know how to fight back. No one had ever taught him. He had always been taught to walk away. The loss of bladder control, while humiliating, had caught Martin and Christopher off guard. They didn't seem to want to come near him.

Just then, Christopher landed a punch. It hit Spencer in the face, and knocked him to the ground. His glasses flew off. Now, with these blurry visions of rough shapes over him, Spencer was out of options. He had to protect the phone. He couldn't keep them back at the same time. He hoped Derek was close.

"Help!" Spencer screamed, before he could think better of it. "Derek, help!"

Just like that, Martin's huge hand covered Spencer's mouth. Martin's other arm closed around Spencer's body, and just like that, Martin was dragging Spencer toward the bathroom stall. Just like that, his mother, the literature professor's words, rang in his head.

If anyone he didn't know tried to take him anywhere, he was to fight.

Spencer wasn't sure how he'd forgotten this in October. He had tried to fight then, but it hadn't worked, with him being so outnumbered. However, now, he might have a fighting chance. He just knew Derek was close. He had to be. Just as he felt himself being hauled into the stall, Spencer sank his teeth into Martin's hand. He didn't stop until he tasted blood. He didn't stop until Martin let him go.

"God damn it! That little shit _bit_ me!" Martin roared.

Spencer broke free, and tried to escape, trying to remember his strategy, but Christopher caught him by the hood of JJ's sweatshirt and dragged him backward.

Kicking and twisting, Spencer did his best to get free, as adrenaline coursed through him. He wasn't expecting it when Christopher grabbed him by the neck and pinned him to the wall. Spencer's feet dangled several inches above the floor and Christopher squeezed a slow and steady pressure. Spencer's vision was starting to go dim around the edges when a voice caught his attention.

"Let him go!"

And just like that, Spencer was released. It was like the magic Spencer had hoped for. Derek had arrived in time.

Spencer landed on the floor in a heap, nearer to Aaron than he remembered being. From his position, gasping on the tile, Spencer saw Derek's tennis shoes suddenly blocking anyone from getting near them.

"I'm sorry," Spencer whispered to Aaron, who was still curled motionless in the corner. Spencer knew a defense mechanism when he saw one. By remaining inert, Aaron was protecting himself in the only way he could, in not drawing their attention back to him.

* * *

><p>As fast as Derek could run, it just wasn't fast enough. He could hear Spencer screaming long before he was able to actually get in the door. It brought the hair right up off his arms. If there was one thing Derek was unable to stand, it was a bully. It was the blatant abuse and imbalance of power meant to intimidate another person. He had always been there for his brothers and sisters. Because it was the final lesson his parents taught him before they died. The meaning of a true hero. His parents were true heroes, protecting him before themselves. So, that's how Derek lived his life. Protecting those around him the way he had been as a kid.<p>

"What the hell do you two think you're doin' to _my family_?" Derek seethed. The only thing keeping him from kicking these kids' asses himself was the threat of criminal charges being brought against him. Derek wasn't a kid anymore. He was an adult.

"We were just talking to Aaron. Right, buddy?" the skinnier of the two said.

Derek watched doubtfully as Aaron nodded, fear obvious in his eyes.

"And then the little kid came in and went crazy!" the bigger kid insisted. "Look what he did!" he said, holding out his hand, which bled impressively.

"So, y'all were just talkin' to Spencer, too, then?" Derek asked, skeptically. He watched as they nodded. "Really? And how exactly was Spencer supposed to talk back when you were chokin' him?" Derek asked, glaring at the slight, arrogant boy.

"No, I was just defending my buddy," the skinny kid said, jerking his thumb at the big boy who looked like he could level Spencer and Aaron with one punch.

"Yeah, he really looks like he needs your help," Derek muttered. He let the assistant principal take over with the jerks that were making his brothers' lives a living hell and bent down in front of where they were in the corner.

"Are y'all all right?" he asked.

He clenched his teeth to keep from yelling at Spencer. He didn't know how the kid ended up here but Derek figured he had a good reason. He saw the wet spot on the front of Spencer's corduroy pants and some of the anger left Derek. Spencer was pale, shaking and gasping. He lunged forward, clinging to Derek with a strength that was unexpected.

"You came," he rasped.

"Yeah, kid… 'Course, I came," Derek replied, holding him gently.

"What the hell were you doing?" Derek asked quietly, real fear in his eyes as he studied how still Aaron sat, eyes focused on the floor.

But Spencer didn't say a word, still holding onto Derek.

"Okay. All of you, in my office," the assistant principal. "Derek, I think the nurse is still here. Take Aaron and Spencer by there first. I'm going to need to call your parents."

* * *

><p>Aaron felt mortified as Derek made him press ice packs to his stomach and arms. Nothing hurt as bad as his ego right now. That his little brother had interrupted, and took his beating. That his big brother saved them both. That wasn't what was supposed to happen. He was supposed to take this. He had proven he could. So, why had this ended in a way that was so humiliating?<p>

They sat crowded in the principal's office. Himself, Spencer, Derek, Chris and Martin, and both sets of their parents. Emily came in a half hour's time, exclaiming, "Oh, my God. What happened?"

Aaron found he couldn't speak. Neither could anyone else. So, the principal did so first, explaining what he knew. "It seems these boys were bullying Aaron, and when Spencer tried to intervene on his behalf, they turned on Spencer. Is that right?" he asked, looking to the assistant principal for confirmation.

"Yes, that seems correct," the assistant principal agreed.

"Actually, if I could interject," Spencer interrupted, confident despite the fact that he was wearing JJ's sweatshirt around his waist, to hide the fact that he had wet his pants in terror just minutes earlier. Despite the fact that he was still as white as Aaron had ever seen him. "I went to the locker room with the express purpose of catching these two in the act of bullying my brother. I knew it was going on, at least to an extent, and I had yet to speak up about it. I didn't realize how bad it was until last night when our sister saw the bruises on him."

Aaron ducked his head, mortified.

"I had to get proof of what they were doing to Aaron. Due to my own experience with bullying, I knew that was the only way my bullies punished. To record them in the act. Otherwise, it's just their word against mine." He withdrew his phone and handed it across the desk.

Aaron watched Emily's face carefully. She was tense and pale. Would she rethink her decision to adopt him? Would she decide he was too much trouble after this? He purposely crowded his head with such thoughts so he wouldn't have to hear whatever Spencer recorded.

"That's not all," Spencer insisted, once the video ended. "They weren't letting Aaron eat."

"Shut _up_," Aaron hissed.

"That's all I knew at first. That these two freshman," he said, spitting out the word with distaste, "somehow got Aaron's lunch code and went through the line instead of him. I thought it only happened a couple of times, but I suspect it's been going on since the first day. Right?" he asked.

Aaron's cheeks flamed. "It's fine. Don't worry about it," he insisted to his lap. Then, the manners that were so ingrained in Aaron took over. He lifted his head, embarrassment long gone from his face and addressed the principal and assistant principal. "It's just been a misunderstanding."

"Chris? Martin? Would you and your folks excuse us for just a moment?" the principal asked and Aaron was vaguely aware of them clearing the office.

"Aaron, we know Chris and Martin have hurt you. Violence on school property is grounds for expulsion, and they will be punished to the fullest extent that we're allowed to impose," the principal said gravely. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell us now that they're outside?"

"No, sir. There's nothing," Aaron answered .

"Ms. Prentiss? Derek? Spencer?" the principal asked.

"I would appreciate it if you could check the tapes during lunch hours," Emily said softly. "If these kids were keeping my son from eating, I want to know it. I'm not sending Aaron back to this school until those boys are dealt with. Aaron's safety is my first priority. Now, if there's nothing else, I'm going to take my kids home now," she said and Aaron rose mechanically.

He was relieved and he was broken. Aaron had always hoped someone would come and help him, but he never expected that help to make him feel so degraded.

**A/N: So relieved that Spencer and Derek were there for Aaron! Thank goodness! If you're interested, I added an extra scene to the end of Chapter 30 yesterday. Also? I decided I'm going to stop saying how many chapters are left, as I think this has potential to go on a good while longer than I anticipated :) Thank you to all of you who have reviewed, read, favorited, alerted, etc. I appreciate knowing that you're enjoying the story so much.**


	33. Choke

It sucked, but the fact was, JJ still wasn't reliable to be left home by herself, even for a few hours. Even if all she meant to do was sleep. With all the therapists coming through, and Penelope insisting she come outside and get the mail, or any of a million other mundane things, sleep was a total impossibility.

So, after Mom left on some weird errand, JJ was stuck with Penelope. And Penelope, for some reason beyond JJ's knowledge, was completely frustrated. JJ used to be good at keeping her emotions contained and not letting anything affect her. Now, though, if someone around her was in a shitty mood, or frustrated or sad? JJ felt the same. It was like being on a roller coaster.

"What time is it?" JJ wondered anxiously.

She had quickly learned that anything relating to numbers was taking the longest to come back. Even if she could make out the tiny glowing numbers on the digital clock on the microwave, they wouldn't have made sense. Like letters, they looked too similar. Two and five. One and seven. Three and eight. Six and nine. Who could tell the difference? Even all these months later, four was the only number JJ knew by heart, and that was only if it was written a specific way. If the two lines at the top of the four met in a peak instead of remaining separated, JJ got completely lost.

"Are you serious right now?" Penelope asked, checking on the chicken and rice in the crock-pot.

"Yes, I'm serious," JJ answered testily. She had already tried to read the time, and there wasn't a four anywhere to be seen, so it wasn't fair to ask her.

"It's two minutes later than the last time you asked…" Penelope sighed, like she was trying to keep her patience.

JJ squinted. "What?"

"It's 6:15," Penelope told her impatiently.

"Where are Mom and the boys?" JJ wondered.

"Mom had to pick them up. Seriously, Jaje. What's up with you? Why are you asking everything on a loop?" Penelope asked.

JJ cocked her head, confused. "Why are you so pissed at me?"

"Because you've asked about what time it is and where everyone went six times in the last half hour, JJ. I love you, but I'm not a saint, okay? It gets tedious." Penelope snapped.

JJ turned from the counter beside Penelope and started toward the table, staying near the walls and counter tops for balance and to be sure of where she was. By the time she got to the table and sat down. She squinted down at the watch she wore. Her stomach grumbled.

"Hey, do you know what time it is?" JJ asked.

Silence.

"Nell?" she called, turning. Penelope's name had proven easy to remember but a pain to say aloud. So she had a new nickname, which she usually didn't mind. Today, though, she seemed really mad for some reason.

"Are you kidding me?" Penelope asked, incredulously. "JJ, you literally _just _asked me that."

"What is your problem? No, I didn't!" JJ exclaimed, exasperated.

"Yeah, you did," Penelope answered shortly.

"What's the big deal? It's a simple question!" JJ insisted, her eyes filling with unwanted tears. "It's _so _easy for you! I try so hard for things that two days ago, I didn't even have to think about!"

"Two _months_," Penelope corrected softly, still facing away from her.

"God! Don't you see? I try so hard and it doesn't matter! I still look stupid in public, even though I _feel _the same inside! I feel like I should know everything I knew, and be able to do everything, but I can't! And I know it's my fault. I'm paying for it every damn day…but sometimes I just wish…you would…_help me_ instead of making me feel stupider than I feel already!" JJ managed around the lump in her throat.

"You don't think I'm helping you?" Penelope asked, turning toward her for the first time. "You honestly don't see how I've dropped everything to stay here with you. To live in your room in case you need anything?"

"If you're helping me so much then _prove it_," JJ insisted, her voice low and gravelly. "Tell me what time it is!"

"For God's sake, JJ, figure it out!" Penelope exclaimed. "There are a few things more pressing than what time it is!" Then, she stormed out of the kitchen, into the bedroom they shared, slamming the door behind her.

* * *

><p>Penelope shook with emotion as tears tracked down her cheeks. She felt awful for the things she'd said to JJ. It wasn't her fault. Penelope knew better than most how she could perseverate on a topic, or honestly forget she had asked a question in the first place. It was an irritating habit, for sure, but Penelope would rather have JJ here and able to irritate her than gone, like her own parents.<p>

It wasn't even JJ who was the real problem. It was Penelope for thinking that with her brilliant tech skills she and her twelve-year-old genius brother could save their fifteen-year-old brother from the torment of high school asshats. It was clear, based on the phone call Emily had received that their plan had gone terribly wrong. Now, not only Aaron was hurt, but Spencer, too. Derek was at the school already, thank God. Without him, Penelope didn't want to think about what might have happened.

She did know, however, that this was the dumbest thing she had ever done. Well, next to going out partying that night when she was seventeen. The night her parents went out searching for her, and were hit by the drunk driver. The night she came home, and they never did. The guilt felt the same, singed tight around her throat, and JJ was the closest target to lash out against.

What kind of big sister was she not to do absolutely everything in her power to protect her family? Why did Penelope think she was so amazingly smart that she could outdo vicious high school jerks? Now her brothers were hurt, and it was on her. Now, her sister was hurt, and that, too, weighed heavily on her conscience.

* * *

><p>"All right. Come on, guys," Emily called, as Derek held the door for her, Aaron and Spencer. While Aaron walked as though he were uninjured, Spencer rasped like a lifelong smoker whenever he tried to speak.<p>

A trip to the ER had shown no serious damage to either boy, thank God. Aaron had countless bruises on his arms and stomach, and though Spencer's airway had been compromised, nurses felt sure he would recover with rest and monitoring, but the bruising around his neck looked horrific. This was in addition to his split lip, and the goose egg on the back of his head. After sending them to the car with Derek, Emily sent an email to the school principal. She demanded to know the final word one what was being done about the two freshman who had terrorized her sons. She attached photos she had taken of the damage done to her boys, if the brief glimpse the principal had gotten was not enough to sway him.

The response was immediate:

_Dear Ms. Prentiss,_

_Christopher Gullickson and Martin Fink have been expelled and are not allowed back on school property for any reason whatsoever. I plan to scan the cafeteria security tapes in search of Aaron myself, as soon as I can get my hands on them. I am deeply sorry for the hardships Aaron and Spencer have experienced here. I plan to address this on Monday morning with the students, but not in a way that identifies your children. I value your input and would appreciate your candor on the subject of bullying and what more we, as adults in these students' lives, can do, to ensure their safety on school grounds._

It was little consolation, as Aaron and Spencer were already deeply hurt - psychologically as well as physically - so the fact that the two responsible were only expelled three months prior to the school year ending seemed too little too late for Emily. But at least it was something.

Her heart broke, at the thought of Aaron going to school every day and being terrified to go to the cafeteria. She knew without confirmation what these boys had done. The proof was in Aaron's recent behavior even if it wasn't on Spencer's video of the assault.

At the top of the stairs, Emily could see JJ, who got to her feet as soon as the door opened. Emily watched as she stood there unsteadily, squinting and waiting for them to get to where JJ had a good view of them.

"Where _were_ you guys?" she insisted. "It's getting dark."

No one spoke, so Emily broke the silence. "Where's Penelope? We're going to have dinner and talk about everything later."

JJ was about to respond when Spencer passed her by very closely. Close enough for her to get an unfortunately good view of the awful bruises on his neck.

Emily had no time at all to respond as JJ's face changed completely from mild irritation to confusion, to horror. She grew several shades paler and Derek rushed to steady her before she fell or passed out.

"Oh my God…" she gasped. "Oh my God…" She said this over and over. Even Spencer's reassurances that he was fine did little to comfort JJ when she was in this state.

"JJ, they're all right," Derek said, trying his luck.

"I'm so sorry…" she managed, her voice thick with emotion and laced with panic.

Penelope appeared then, wary and intuitive about the change in the house. She moved carefully and deliberately to retrieve the crock-pot from the counter and vegetables from the microwave. She brought them to the table and sat down, studying her lap.

"How many of you were aware, or had suspicions, that Aaron was being hurt at school before now?" Emily asked evenly. Like a class of guilty school kids, Penelope, JJ and Spencer raised their hands. She bit her lip as she watched Aaron raise his own hand a few inches.

"How many of you came to me about helping your brother?" she asked. "In case it's escaped you in these last few months, I'm the mom. It's up to me to take care of situations like these. Not any of you. I dealt with Spencer's bullying in October and I dealt with Aaron's as well. I could have dealt with it much sooner, if I'd been made aware of it." Emily said seriously. "Whose idea was it for Spencer to go film Aaron getting hurt?"

"Mine," Spencer piped up in his rough, squeaky voice.

"Yes, I have no doubt in that but who helped you?" Emily looked around the table, waiting, as Penelope raised her hand guiltily.

"Not wise," Emily said simply, reading the regret all over Penelope's face. Then, she addressed all five of her kids at the table. "We're a family. As a family, we take care of each other. I do rely on you to look out for one another quite a bit, I realize that, especially recently. But part of maturity is knowing when a problem is too big for you to handle on your own. Adult or not. This goes for all of you."

Before she had the chance to speak another word, JJ, who had never really stopped crying, scraped her chair back and left the table.

* * *

><p>It had been so long, that JJ had almost forgotten. She had almost forgotten the raw terror that coursed through her when anything brought to mind Janet's last moments. Her older sister had died by suicide. By hanging. So even though so many years had gone by, things still caught her unaware. Like the sight of such similar bruises around Spencer's neck. How had this happened again? How had she managed to fail so many of her siblings so many times?<p>

JJ pressed her lips together, to keep her emotion in check like she used to, but it was no use. The thoughts in her head and the reality outside her door were too much. The truth was, that had this happened before New Year's, she would have been there with Spencer. She would have insisted on telling their mom right when she saw the bruises on Aaron. She was a grown-ass woman, who looked normal on the outside, but had always been screwed up on the inside.

Anger at herself boiled over and JJ lashed out, feeling around and throwing whatever she could locate. Her ability to be a good big sister to these siblings was all she had left that hadn't been messed up by the car accident, and now she didn't even have that.

So, there went the pillow on her bed. There went Penelope's suitcase. There went the candles Penelope liked so much, shattered against the door. JJ couldn't talk, she couldn't speak up, she couldn't save the people closest to her, but she could sure as hell do this! Adrenaline and rage poured through her. Blood rushed in her ears. Her head rang with so many thoughts that JJ didn't hear the door open.

* * *

><p>Derek was out of his chair the second he heard something break in the girls' room. Before heads at the table even turned. The sound of stuff shattering, and JJ's frustrated screaming set him running again. For the second time in only a few hours. But it was either him or his mom or Penelope. And neither of those two seemed like they could take one more thing.<p>

He bravely pushed open the door, and didn't hesitate, feeling like he was back on the team as he calculated how to safely bring JJ down. The room was destroyed. But more than that, _JJ_ was destroyed. So, Derek didn't think. He just reacted. He just grabbed her from behind, ignoring it when she fought him, and easily bringing them both to sit on her bed.

The sound of her broke something in him, but Derek forced himself to breathe. This day was tough, but not the toughest he'd experienced. She fought and writhed in his grip and he held on. His arms around her from behind. It made the screaming worse, but Derek wasn't about to let her go. He didn't say anything, just held on, hoping to God that Mom kept everyone else out of here. JJ didn't need a spectacle. Besides, whatever set her off was probably out there anyway.

"I got you," he repeated quietly, thinking back a couple of nights. How none of their triggers was too far off, ever. He had the option of dealing with his own quietly, but it seemed that JJ didn't. By now, she just sobbed, her hand at her own throat.

Then he got it.

Maybe he wouldn't have if he hadn't spent so much time around her when she was just waking up. When she was asking for Janet every time she opened her eyes. But it made him remember her old fears. Of closed closet doors. Of belts. Of scarves. He remembered her first reaction to Spencer. She had said, "You're okay." Now he wasn't. Now, he had been hurt. Now he had bruises, probably the same place Janet had bruises.

"This isn't your fault," Derek said as calm as he could, because JJ was still the complete opposite. "You didn't know what Spencer was up to. You can't blame yourself like this."

JJ tried to speak, but the words caught in her own throat.

"It's all right," he said closing his eyes and hoping that it would be.

**A/N: I should know better by now not to fight my muse when it tells me to do something. I sat here most of today trying to convince myself to write something else for this chapter, but nothing seemed right. Nothing but this. This chapter is dedicated to theangelsarecoming whose birthday is today, and who requested several days ago that I update on her birthday! Thanks to all of you for your amazingness. This story would not be what it is without each and every one of you!**


	34. Vines

It didn't end. Not right away. The way things were going, JJ was afraid she might never stop crying.

Derek was still there. She was glad it was him. Even though he wore cologne that was so strong it had made her want to gag in the hospital, and now, being surrounded by it wasn't much better. She was glad it was Derek because they were alike. JJ and Aaron had bonded as kids. JJ and Penelope would always be close as sisters, and JJ felt a strong protective love for Spencer. But she and Derek were both strong. They could both manipulate someone else before that person knew what was coming. And even though they grieved in different ways, the grief itself felt the same.

Just this once, JJ let herself be held. She was pretty sure it had never happened before. Definitely not when she was this upset, but things were different now. Not like she needed that reminder. Every time her scattered thoughts caught on Spencer, or Aaron, or Penelope or Janet, or her biological parents or Emily, the pain started all over again. The truth was, Derek was the only one JJ had not obviously hurt. And if she had, Derek was the only one who didn't let her know it.

This was what she needed. Someone to hold her together when she was falling apart. Someone strong enough when she felt totally wrong and tired and weak and worthless. She needed someone to pull her out of this darkness. JJ used to believe she didn't need anyone, but the last few months had proven her otherwise. She had always needed people, she just relied on the wrong ones.

It was several minutes before JJ could understand any of what Derek was saying. When it clicked, she was even more grateful.

"I got you," he was saying. Something that made total sense to her. Because he did have her. Thank God. She tried to take a steadying breath, relieved that she couldn't hear any of the rest of her family at the table. If all she had to focus on was breathing, maybe, she could manage it.

Slowly, her surroundings registered. The wrecked room. Penelope's candles in their little glass holders shattered on the carpet. Everything ripped off JJ's bed. Whatever was in Penelope's suitcase tossed all over the room. It was a disaster. And it didn't help Aaron. It didn't fix Spencer. It didn't save Janet.

JJ could feel the pull of her past on her now. The desire to just say screw everything. If she could have, JJ felt sure she would have found some way to get away from Derek and just get the hell away from everything. Hadn't that been what she'd done the night of her accident? She didn't have concrete memory of it, but it felt right. Acting out wouldn't do anything but hurt everyone more than they were already hurt. She couldn't move and she couldn't speak, but it gave her time to really think about her next move.

Derek wasn't overwhelming her. He was just a strong presence beside her, waiting. He didn't say anything, but she could tell that he was ready to act if she needed him to.

She tried to speak, but nothing came. Not because of emotions, but because of her brain. Or maybe it was both? JJ could never be sure. She tried taking deep breaths to calm down, but it was no use. She was as calm as she was going to be, so she would have to settle for being temporarily silent.

Slowly, JJ began to move, but Derek held her back.

"There's glass everywhere and you don't have shoes. Hang out here, all right?" he said, motioning to the bed. "Or do you want shoes?" he asked.

JJ nodded, unable to do much else.

"Yes, you want shoes?" Derek clarified, and JJ nodded again.

While JJ waited for Derek to come back, she tried to think about how in the world she was going to deal with seeing Spencer and his bruised neck for however long until it healed. She didn't have any answers by the time Derek returned, setting JJ's new rehab tennis shoes down and waiting. That was another thing she appreciated about him. He didn't assume she always needed help, even when she did.

Actually, now that JJ had shoes, she wasn't sure she actually wanted them. Suddenly, she felt drained of energy and all she wanted to do was curl up and fall asleep. So, though her bed was completely bare of everything, JJ did just that, while Derek found a place nearby and sat, as if keeping watch. It comforted her to know that she wouldn't be alone.

* * *

><p>"What's with <em>her<em>?" Aaron asked darkly, once the screaming finally stopped.

He could feel everyone's eyes on him - Mom's, Spencer's and Penelope's - but it was like he couldn't stop himself. No one spoke, so he kept going, picking at his food.

"It's not like she got her ass kicked for months… It's not like any of this happened to her…"

"Why do you imagine JJ's upset?" Emily asked like she was just curious, but Aaron knew it was some trick she used to get him to empathize. Well, he didn't feel like being compassionate, and he didn't deserve their understanding either.

"Maybe it's from her brain damage…" he said. There. See if they felt like feeling bad for him now. He knew that despite everything their mom said earlier, what happened to Aaron was his own fault, and no one else's. If he had just taken it and not been so careless, none of this would have happened.

"Absolutely not," Emily said abruptly. "We don't put each other down."

"So, send me to my room then," Aaron challenged, glaring at Emily. It was all he wanted. It was what he deserved. To be sent away from everybody. He crossed his arms and waited. If Emily wasn't going to actually kick him out of the house, this was a great second option. He didn't look at Spencer, whose bruises were so ugly and terrifying they made Aaron scared to see his own. He didn't look at Penelope either because he was sure she was so disappointed in him.

"No," Emily maintained. "You're going to stay at the table, and help Spencer and Derek clean up, since Penelope made dinner."

"Great, and what does JJ have to do? Nothing. Of course," Aaron grumbled.

"JJ set the table," Penelope put in quietly. The first words she'd said since Aaron got home.

"Yeah! Wrong! What did we need forks and knives for?" Aaron exclaimed.

"Actually, she set it correctly," Spencer put in, his voice strained and squeaky. "The forks are on the left and the knives and spoons are on the right. Glasses are on the top right. Most people who _haven't _been in JJ's situation aren't able to correctly set a basic place setting, much less six."

"Yeah, because she's so perfect and can't do anything wrong…" Aaron pushed, privately horrified at how far he was willing to go. He was asking for it now. Begging for it. For someone to just put him in his place.

He was on his way outside when Emily intervened and took his hand. Aaron's face flamed. She was treating him like a child. Though he was nearly taller than she, Emily was not intimidated by his outburst. He, on the other hand, was very intimidated by her lack of one. What did it mean?

"I meant what I said, Aaron. I still mean it. You stay with us. Carry on all you want, but it won't change what's expected. You stay and be a part of us. Be respectful. I wouldn't tolerate any of the rest of the kids talking about you the way you're talking about JJ. It's not debatable. You will stop. Do you understand?"

"Fine," he said, jerking away from her.

He'd just wait until later then. When no one could stop him.

* * *

><p>Being a mother was exhausting. The entire evening was spent urging her family to stay together when they wanted no part of each other. Aaron was rebelling, as much as was possible for him. When Emily stuck her head into JJ's room she found Derek sitting silently amid the mess on the floor, while JJ slept. Penelope and Spencer were at least pleasant to one another, even though Penelope was clearly feeling miserable about how spectacularly her plan had failed, and Spencer was in pain.<p>

What she wouldn't give for Carolyn to walk in right about now. Though months had passed since her death, the ache in Emily's heart had not lessened. It was hard to believe that everything from Spencer's bullying to JJ's accident, Emily had weathered practically alone. Now, there was this. Aaron had been hurt for months without Emily even suspecting. He had lied right to her face when she'd asked him months ago, if he was being hurt, and he had done it well, because Emily had not suspected.

As much as she was disappointed that none of her children had come to her, Emily was more disheartened to realize that she had been deceived by her own son's defenses. She was his mother. She should have known. She should have pushed harder. Not simply taken Aaron's calm admission for honesty. If there was one thing Emily could be grateful for, it was Aaron's current state. While she wasn't fond of teenage attitudes, the fact that Aaron was being belligerent was a relief. He was beyond his own ability to keep himself together. He was lashing out and it was a good thing for him, even though it was difficult for her. Because under this verbal aggression, Emily suspected, were Aaron's true feelings.

While she was not naïve enough to believe that it would be quick and easy, Emily did feel sure that going through this would be worth it. Because Aaron deserved - just as all her kids did - to know that regardless of what mistakes they made, they always had a home with her. That she wouldn't kick them out, or hit them or hurt them if they didn't do as they were asked. She would do what should have been done for them all along. She would do her best to remain a loving, consistent presence in their lives. She would hold them accountable for their actions and give them plenty of opportunities to talk. Though she hadn't done so in years, Emily grabbed a pen and jotted some shorthand down on her palm. She was going to set aside time each day to spend time with each child individually. It would be hard, but they needed her, and she needed them.

Though it had been many years, Emily suggested a movie night. It was a past time they had enjoyed when the kids had first started settling in. Each Friday, one of them would pick a movie. Then they would sit, watch, and talk about it together. The selection and preferences would change, but Emily promised herself to be open to whatever they selected.

Aaron was sullen and silent, refusing to pick anything. Spencer suggested _Lawrence of Arabia_, but Penelope and even Aaron said no to that. It was over three hours in length, and Spencer loved being able to watch a movie from beginning to end.

It was Penelope who suggested the more modern, Disney retelling of _Rapunzel -_ a movie called _Tangled_ - which she had brought from home. Surprisingly, Spencer agreed to this, and Aaron wasn't vehemently opposed.

Emily stuck her head into JJ's room to ask Derek if he'd like to join, but he declined, preferring instead to stay close by JJ.

So, the four of them watched. It was a challenge to keep Aaron sitting near her. He sat with his arms wrapped around raised knees and refused to watch the screen. Penelope sang along to every song, and Spencer said that he "enjoyed the emotional complexity" that the princess was enduring saying it was impressive especially for a cartoon.

About halfway through the film, JJ and Derek joined them in the living room. Shortly thereafter, Dave arrived. He said nothing, just sat down with an arm around JJ and the other around Derek.

"Oh, is this _Rapunzel_?" he asked, upon getting comfortable. "Love this movie. That gal sure can sing. Carolyn sang just like her, you know? Wish I hadn't missed the beginning. That was the best part."

Emily smiled faintly, wondering what Carolyn would say to Dave comparing her to an animated Disney princess.

"We can start it again," Penelope offered.

"Oh, we can watch this movie twice, but we can't watch _Lawrence of Arabia_ once?" Spencer asked, though he didn't sound too put out.

"I love _Lawrence of Arabia_. We'll make a day of it sometime," Dave promised, as JJ moved closer to him. He cast a concerned look at Emily, no doubt regarding the sound of Spencer's voice.

She moved to put an arm around Aaron, who bristled at the contact, but didn't out rightly refuse it.

It wasn't perfect, Emily knew, but it was something.

**A/N: Hooray for chapter 34! I always love family bonding, even when things are tough. Love them all and I love going through the highs and lows with them. Thanks to all you guys, as usual, for sharing your thoughts!**


	35. Garden

Aaron tried to hold off as long as he could before following through with his plan. He knew that Emily had taken the other half of Spencer's walkie-talkie and was listening for him. Penelope was with JJ. And Aaron had already proven he could do a lot without Derek being the wiser. So, a few hours after everyone else fell asleep, Aaron crept out of bed, checked his refrigerator, and slipped out the back door.

* * *

><p>JJ started awake suddenly. She'd had plenty of nightmares since New Year's, but this one was different. This one felt real. The sound of a door closing echoed loudly in her head. She shook her head to clear it, and focused on Penelope's face, inches from her own. Since JJ had lost control and destroyed everything, and they were both too tired to clean it up, Penelope had wordlessly climbed in bed with JJ. Their fight from earlier wasn't forgotten, but they just didn't talk about it. What would be the point? JJ could see Penelope had been sorry, and JJ couldn't really promise she would never repeatedly ask for the time again. So, they just quietly forgave each other.<p>

Now, though, JJ poked Penelope awake.

"Mmmm… What?" Penelope asked groggily.

"Nell," JJ pressed, frustrated that she couldn't say what she was really thinking. That something was wrong.

"What, JJ? I'm awake," Penelope insisted, turning on the light for a good measure.

The world was caught in JJ's throat. That was how it felt, anyway. So many words, but only one squeezed through. "Door," JJ managed. When Penelope didn't respond right away, JJ repeated herself, even though she knew Penelope hated it.

Only this time, Penelope squinted. She reached for her glasses on the bedside table and sat up. "Can you show me?" Penelope asked.

Now, with the light on, JJ remembered that Derek had taken care of all the glass and put the blankets back on her bed. There was still a mess, but a path had been made in it, so JJ wouldn't trip.

It was kind of an unfair request, since JJ was still known to get lost on her way from one room to the next, on a bad day. But tonight, she was determined. JJ and Penelope held hands and JJ led them both to where she knew the sound at come from, turning on lights along the way.

Penelope stopped them both short at the top of the stairs, even though JJ was intent on going down. Instead, Penelope turned them around, and took JJ back to the bedroom.

"I got it," she reassured JJ. "The back door downstairs. I'll check it out. You stay here."

And JJ sighed in relief. This time, she didn't even mind being left behind, because she had been heard and taken seriously. JJ hugged her knees to her chest and waited for Penelope to come back, her ears tuned to anything that could be out of place.

* * *

><p>Penelope adapted what she liked to call stealth mode for when she had to move unseen. It came in pretty handy when following JJ's instructions at 2:30 in the morning. Admittedly, Penelope hadn't been awake at first, but the possibility of an intruder had snapped all of her senses into awareness. She moved downstairs - not as soundlessly as she would have liked - her heart beating like crazy. She turned a corner and saw the back door. Closed. Locked. Just as it should have been. But Penelope stopped in front of it anyway, knowing JJ's hearing had become super sensitive - maybe to make up for what her eyes were lacking.<p>

She squinted out the glass in the door, not able to see anything. It was just stupid to come down here without some kind of weapon. There could be a crazy person in the yard. So Penelope did a quick search and came away with a flashlight. She had serious doubts that light would scare away an intruder, but maybe, she could knock them over the head.

Quietly, Penelope stole outside, and nearly lost her breath at the sight of a figure sitting in the garden.

"Who are you? What do you want?" she asked, aiming the light in front of her and squeezing her eyes shut in fear.

"Leave me alone," Aaron's voice said back, raising the hair on the back of her neck.

"What are you doing out here?" Penelope hissed. It was still cold enough that she could see her breath. At least there wasn't snow on the ground.

The way Aaron sat out here, in the dirt, was chilling. He didn't move, not even to shiver. Didn't look up at her. He seemed to be waiting for something, but Penelope couldn't imagine what.

"Aaron? Talk to me." What Penelope wanted to say was for them to get inside because it was really cold out here, but Aaron seemed content just to sit. Not content exactly. Determined.

He didn't respond.

"Tell me what's up. Please. I want to help," she insisted quietly.

Then, she waited. Because Aaron didn't say a word. He just sat there letting dirt fall between his fingers. Penelope sat there, shivering in just a nightshirt and sweatpants for five minutes straight. Finally, she was out of options, and stood up, promising to be right back.

* * *

><p>For a split-second after Penelope left, Aaron was glad. She was leaving him alone, like he wanted. It was what he deserved after everything he'd done. When she walked back outside with Derek, Aaron braced himself. So, it wasn't over after all. So, he was going to get what was coming to him. Finally. Aaron had known for months it was coming. If he couldn't handle a beating from kids his same age, then something was wrong with him. If his own parents replaced him with another kid they liked better, who behaved better, then wasn't what everything they ever told him true? If Aaron had just acted better, none of this would have ever happened.<p>

But no, he had screwed up. He had run away from home when he was six and spent the next year paying dearly for it. In winter, they locked him outside sometimes. When it was warmer, and all the snow melted, there was dirt.

He remembered it vividly. The day he'd run away from his parents when they were having a big get-together. It hadn't been hard. He'd been surprised that he was able to do it. He walked and hid places a long time, and finally, a policeman saw him. When Aaron was six, he still trusted police, and believed what he learned in first grade. That police helped kids. When the officer asked where he lived, Aaron lied and said a brown house by a yellow and orange park when it wasn't true at all.

All these years later, and Aaron couldn't even remember why he ran. Whatever was happening then couldn't have been too bad if he couldn't recall it. What he did remember was meeting Emily, who was young and without any pets at the time. She was taking care of other kids at the time, but always remembered him. She made sure he was clean and fed and that he got to be a kid. It had been the best day.

Then, his parents found him. Then everything had changed.

The very first thing that happened, the night he got back, was the thing he tried to block out every day since. He couldn't remember the day or the time of year. Only that it had been dark and cold. Like this. His parents hadn't said a word; they just brought him into their backyard, which was secluded with lots of trees and a big wooden and wire fence. His mother had a garden, and she had been planting. That was all he had time to think of before his father made him lie down in the dirt. He told Aaron to remember this, his voice low and scary. That this is what would happen to him whenever he stepped out of line. No more burying his toys. That wasn't getting through his thick head. He had lain still. Not moving. Barely breathing as his dad shoveled dirt over him. Aaron was buried up to his neck when he watched his mom whisper something to his dad. He had stopped then. He had walked away laughing, as if it was a joke. He had told Aaron to come, too. That he was just kidding. But Aaron knew better. Because Aaron's dad's mean voice was his real voice, and any other voices couldn't be trusted. That night was the first night he slept in the bathroom, standing up. He had felt so lucky to not be buried in the dirt.

All these years, and his dad's promise rang in his head. Whenever he stepped out of line, this is what would happen. So, maybe Penelope couldn't do it on her own. Maybe she just wanted to look on and Derek would do the actual digging. Aaron eyed them, aware that they were talking, but not really listening to them at all.

This is what he needed. This would put him in line and make him behave better. They would do what was best for him, just like his parents had. Nothing else worked on him. Obviously. Or he wouldn't be here now. He would still be with his parents. He would have a little brother named Sean and they would be a normal family.

Instead, he was part of this family, where nothing was normal. No one looked related, because no one _was_ related. Everyone screwed up and left each other. So, maybe, Aaron was in the right family after all…

* * *

><p>"All right. Come on, kid," Derek coaxed, pulling Aaron to his feet. He had tried talking and that hadn't worked. He didn't want to scare Aaron, but there was no way Derek was about to let him spend the night out here in the cold.<p>

Instead of being scared, Aaron went along. He was so passive it was scary. They needed Emily for this, no question, but Derek wasn't sure what would happen if he left him and Penelope alone. So, he sent Penelope instead, and stayed with Aaron himself, figuring Derek wasn't afraid to keep a hand on him, to make sure he didn't try to bolt.

Aaron tried to move, a few times. Derek had a sense if he let Aaron go, he would have holed up in the bathroom. It was something he hadn't done for years, but there was just something about the way he was acting that gave it away. So Derek kept a hand on Aaron's arm and stopped him from going more than a step or two away. They stood in the downstairs hallway, just inside the closed door and waited.

Just about then, Emily showed up, and Derek was so relieved. "You're all right. Emily's gonna help you," Derek reassured.

Then, he turned his attention to Emily. "If you need me, I'll be around…" he promised.

* * *

><p>Emily didn't let herself think. She didn't let it register, whatever it meant that Aaron was sitting in the garden in the middle of the night when he had a deep fear of dirt for years as a child. She hadn't gotten many details from him. Only once, when he was around eight, he had admitted that sometimes his biological parents buried his toys to scare him. She had always had suspicions that perhaps they had gone further than that, but Aaron had never spoken of it, and she wasn't about to push him now.<p>

She simply put an arm around him and walked him upstairs. She sat on the couch and insisted he do the same, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and holding close to her. Feeling entirely out of practice - Aaron hadn't had a flashback like this in years - Emily tried to remember what had worked for him in years past.

"Aaron, it's Emily," she said calmly. "Can you look at me?" she asked and was chilled when he raised his gaze, but seemed to stare through her instead, not really seeing her at all. But she worked with him, encouraged that he tried to respond to her request. It took several long minutes until Aaron seemed able to meet her eyes.

"I need you to talk to me," she encouraged. "Why were you outside in the middle of the night?"

"I have to," he answered in an empty, haunting tone. Emily was taken back several years to when he had been spooked by an impromptu visit by Dave. When he had hidden in a storage tote under her basement stairs for hours. When she had asked him about it then, his answer had been much the same.

"Why?"

"Because," he shrugged, defeated. "I just have to."

**A/N: Sorry for the wait between chapters! And hello to all the new reviewers as well as the frequent ones! I didn't want to rush this chapter, which is why I left off here. I can't rush the healing process, and they are all healing. Thanks you guys, as usual for all your reviews and if you're just reading and enjoying!**


	36. Bury

For Aaron, staying present was the most difficult thing. Memories were invading his consciousness. There was no way he could explain to Emily why he had gone outside in the middle of the night, in any way that she could understand. All Aaron knew for sure was that it made sense to _him_.

"It's okay," Emily reassured, even though Aaron knew the truth. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay. Not when there was a kid out there getting treated like a human, while Aaron had gotten treated like so much less. Not when Aaron knew the truth about himself. That he was inherently bad. That he was so thoroughly unlovable that even his own parents couldn't love him.

He couldn't speak, so Aaron shook his head.

Emily watched him carefully, considering his reaction before she spoke. "I know it doesn't feel okay. But it is, honey. I promise you. Whatever is wrong, I want to help you make it better. Now, will you please talk to me?"

"I can't," Aaron shook his head.

"Yes, you can. Just one thing. Anything," Emily encouraged.

"Ask Dave," Aaron offered tonelessly.

"Ask Dave what?" Emily pressed gently.

Aaron shrugged, at a loss again. When there was silence for several minutes, he spoke softly. "You don't have to keep me."

"You're my son. It's never occurred to me _not _to keep you."

"It occurred to _them._" Aaron said, his face still blank. "Just ask Dave. Ask Dave or get a goddamn shovel," he spat, suddenly angry.

Emily's tone grew more intense suddenly, as she told him, "I'm not asking Dave, I'm asking you, Aaron. Talk to me. Please. How would asking Dave help you right now?"

"It wouldn't," Aaron shrugged. "But he knows."

"I'm listening. He knows what's upsetting you, but it wouldn't help you for me to ask him," Emily swallowed. "Hypothetically, how would my getting a shovel help you?"

"I'd be better. It would put me in my place," he tipped his chin, feeling almost defiant.

"What would put you in your place? What would the shovel be for?" Emily asked quietly.

"What are _most _shovels for?" Aaron retorted sharply. "Just bury me…" he said, suddenly resigned. Suddenly quiet.

* * *

><p>Emily had to have heard him wrong, but in a second, she knew she hadn't. She knew she had heard her son exactly right. He was asking for the unspeakable, which he had apparently already endured. She took a deep breath, determined to steady herself for him, and not vomit as she wanted so badly to do. Aaron didn't need a weak mom, he needed a strong mom. He needed a mom who would stand by him through what he was enduring. A mother who would light the way to the other side of his darkness.<p>

She reached for him, slowly and deliberately, tilting his chin up so they were looking at one another. "I need you to look at me, and I need you to listen. I will _never_ bury you. Do you understand me?"

"No," he said, and it was beautiful to her, because it was honest. It was, however, haunting for the very same reason.

Cautiously, as though she were taming something, Emily drew Aaron into her arms and held him. "You are my son, Aaron. My heart," she paused, thinking. "Do you remember what _guardian_ means?" she asked tenderly, remembering when he'd come back to her at seven years old, worried about the legitimacy of her signature on a school permission slip.

"It doesn't mean anything," Aaron said, his tone empty.

Emily held his face between her hands, still seeing the little boy she had met so many years before. "It means _everything_. Tell me. What does it mean?"

"To keep something safe," he recited by memory.

"Some_one_," she corrected softly. "You're someone, Aaron. You're a person and you have always deserved the dignity of being kept safe, of having a home, a bed, food to eat and you have always deserved to be loved. Being a guardian is a responsibility I take very seriously. Keeping you safe is my highest priority and it always have been. Because I love you and I value you so much."

"_They _did it," Aaron accused darkly.

"And they shouldn't have," Emily told him firmly. "No matter what you did, it doesn't make what they did justified. You were just a little boy, Aaron. They were the adults, and as adults, they were legally obligated to protect you."

"I couldn't fight Chris or Martin. I lied. I was disrespectful to you. I couldn't handle anything myself. All I did was make trouble for everyone. Spencer got beat up again. …And I'm not a little boy anymore," Aaron finished, his tone defeated.

"You are _my _little boy," Emily said fiercely. "None of those things you mentioned change that. Abusing someone else is never okay."

"What about running away?" he asked, his voice low.

"What about it?" she asked. "You've done that, remember? And I didn't hurt you or scare you in any way. I never have and I never will."

Aaron only sighed as if Emily had said something that was a nice idea, but not at all based in reality. "You don't have to keep me," he said again, breaking her heart.

"Yes, you said that earlier. You mentioned Dave knowing something about what's making you so upset, but it won't help you for Dave to tell it. It will help if you do, though."

Aaron swallowed, convulsively. "What are you going to do if I tell you?"

Emily pulled him into her arms again, and held on. "I'm going to listen and I'm going to hold you."

"What if I can't say it?" he asked, sounding choked.

"Then I'll still listen. And I'll still hold you," Emily promised.

"Can you ask me?" he wondered, his voice timid. She was taken back to the first day he'd been with her when he was seven. When he hadn't spoken a word at first. Had that been the problem, even then? Had Aaron simply not been able to speak about the horrors he endured because no one asked the right question?

"What's making you so afraid that I won't want to keep you?" she asked, her arms still around him. "You seemed okay until recently. What changed?"

A shudder ran the length of his body and she rubbed his back.

"Sean," Aaron said - not what Emily was expecting to hear at all.

"Who is Sean?" she asked.

"The one my parents kept, after I came here," Aaron whispered.

* * *

><p>He braced himself. It was all Aaron could think to do. He didn't know what Emily's reaction would be to news like this. And, he found that, as much as he tried, the rest of the story came pouring out. Only because he didn't have to look her in the eyes and see her inevitable disappointment, or worse, her confirmation of what he already knew to be true.<p>

"I found some papers in Dave's desk, after Carolyn…I didn't mean to…I just was cleaning up for him and found them by accident. Official papers, like Dave was keeping an eye on my family. It said they had a child, born nine years after me. He was six years old, the same age I was when it started. So, I went to Manassas with a friend to check it out. The address was the same. So…I went and he looked just like me. Except he was clean. He got to go to school and have friends, and eat at the table. He looked so normal, and my parents…I was only there a few minutes…but they loved him, Mom. I could just tell. They loved him the way you love us. And I couldn't take it. It makes me hate myself. Because if I had been better, maybe I could have stayed with them. Why does Sean get to play team sports and go to his cousin's house when I got nothing like that? What the hell is so wrong with me? It's not them, Mom, obviously. They're capable of love. They just couldn't love _me_," he insisted.

He could hear the lump in Emily's throat when she said, "Nothing is wrong with you. What made your parents hurt you, and love Sean, I don't know. But you are completely loveable. Dave loves you. Carolyn loves you from afar. Penelope loves you. Derek loves you. JJ loves you. Spencer loves you. Nathaniel loves you. Cary loves you. Matthew loves you. _I _love you, Aaron. So much, you can't even imagine. You were my first little boy. You are everything that's important to me. If I could have somehow known what was happening to you from the first day you came to me, saying you were lost, I would have fought like hell to keep you with me," Emily said honestly.

Aaron pulled back to look her in the eye, skeptical and hopeful all at once. "Really?" he asked, his voice thick.

"Absolutely," she nodded, and he saw tears falling down her cheeks.

"You would have saved me?" he insisted. "If you knew what was going on, you would have taken me here and let me live with you?" The concept was foreign to him. Up until a minute ago, Aaron had never honestly considered himself worth saving. But the way Emily talked, it wasn't even a question.

"In a heartbeat, Aaron. I would have gotten you out of there a long time before, when you were a baby. I would have loved to see you take your first steps and cut your first teeth. You would have had birthdays and holidays and all the dignities a child deserves. You would never have gone hungry or been abused or humiliated. If you cried at night, I would have held you until you felt safe."

"Kind of like now," Aaron whispered.

"Yes, exactly like now." Emily confirmed, kissing the top of his head.


	37. Lemons

JJ's 20th birthday dawned clear and sunny. Cool in the morning, but the forecast promised a high in the low seventies. The warmer weather - and the spring - could not have come fast enough. Unfortunately for JJ, her birthday didn't count as any kind of national holiday, so she still had to show up for rehab in the morning. She was improving - everyone in her family said so - but it was hard to see, firsthand.

She was still exhausted a lot of the time, but tried to put what energy she did have into getting better. The therapists told her she could expect improvement up to two years after the injury. So far, she was just shy of four months past it. And, her mom had read accounts of improvement way after two years. So, there was still hope. If only she could start feeling more positive about things again. But depression clung to her like a second skin. Her family understood, but they couldn't always be patient with her, when she wanted to sleep huge chunks of the day away, stay inside, and watch TV, instead of joining them in anything family-oriented.

So, JJ did something she had tried as a child, after losing Janet. She decided to look for one good thing about today. Something she could be honestly happy about. Her birthday would be obvious, except JJ wasn't that excited about celebrating anything. But there would be cake. And ice cream. And JJ had never been able to say no to those, so not everything had changed after all.

She made her way unsteadily to the kitchen, where she could already smell the cake baking. Penelope and Derek were hanging a banner, while Aaron and Spencer were at the kitchen table doing school stuff. Aaron hadn't returned to school after those assholes treated him like crap, and he had a really bad moment where he ended up sitting outside in the garden a couple months ago. JJ still didn't know all the details, but she didn't need to. This was what Aaron needed. To be home, where Mom could keep an eye on him, he could learn in peace, and he could heal. Speaking of Mom, she was at the stove. She was responsible for the cake. JJ tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Did you decide what you want for your birthday yet?" Spencer asked, noticing her.

"I don't need anything," JJ persisted, finding a chair and sitting down. "Except maybe some cake. Is that lemon bundt cake?" she asked rhetorically. JJ knew lemon cake when she smelled it. It had been a tradition in her family. Her great-grandma had always made lemon bundt cake for birthdays, and they were JJ and Janet's favorite. Even when her friends wanted cakes in shapes of their favorite cartoons, or, in later years, frozen ice cream cakes, JJ and Janet had both remained firm in their desire for the tradition their grandma started. JJ was grateful that her mom was open to things like this. It helped. It also made her miss her family.

"Can I go see Janet?" she asked abruptly. She remembered walking to the cemetery once as a kid, but that had taken a long time, even without a head injury.

"_That's _what you want for your birthday?" Spencer asked, incredulous. "It's somewhat morbid, don't you think?"

"She's my family, too. For longer than you," JJ insisted, suddenly defensive.

"All right. Enough," Mom said calmly. She looked at JJ straight on. "We don't put each other down for any reason," she explained, like she was being so patient, but JJ just cocked her head. She hadn't put Spencer anywhere.

"Whatever…I'm going to my room…" JJ decided.

"Wait. I'll take you to see Janet," Penelope spoke up, climbing off the chair and grabbing her keys off the counter. "A little more tact next time," she advised Spencer softly, squeezing his shoulder on the way by. JJ saw him flinch and sort of felt bad, but left those feelings behind her as she followed Penelope out to her car.

* * *

><p>"Derek?" Jordan asked, sounding urgent, her own voice low.<p>

"Yeah, it's me. What's up?" he asked. Things had been a little quiet on her end lately, but Derek chose to believe it was because she was busy with school, like she said, and not for any other reason. Like, she was freaked out by the single reference to the past, or to the kiss.

"I'm sitting here in a class I share with Stan, and he is nowhere to be seen. A friend of his mentioned he was driving up to Reston to see JJ. I tried to call her but her cell phone's been off."

"Shit," Derek cursed. "I'm all the way across town. How close is he? Do you know?"

"No, I have no idea. I just thought one of you should know, since he's not the best egg, and JJ's been opposed to seeing him for months."

"Yeah, got it, thanks for the heads-up," Derek said succinctly and hung up. He tried JJ again, but no luck. Her party was on for tonight, and the last thing any of them needed was Stan coming in to mess things up.

* * *

><p>Aaron had worked for weeks to improve from where he had been - devastated over his biological parents' love for Sean - and abused by those assholes at school. It wasn't easy. Every day was a struggle, actually. He worked hard in therapy, which triggered him even more now than before, but he took comfort in Derek's steady presence. Even on days like today when he took a phone call from Jordan and referenced his location as if he were frustrated. They had been over this. It was no problem. Derek was open to talking or not. If Derek cursed at traffic or took a call that didn't mean the commute suddenly <em>was <em>a problem, it just meant Derek was human.

"Who was that?" Aaron asked evenly, trying to keep himself grounded by gripping the arm rest tightly. If he kept talking, his demons from therapy were less likely to show up and make his life hell, so Aaron asked questions. He felt like a reporter. It was kind of nice.

"Jordan."

"What did she want?" he asked, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

"Don't worry about it," Derek dismissed, though Aaron could see how tightly he gripped the wheel.

"Do you love her?" he spoke carefully.

"I don't know. Maybe," Derek allowed.

"So, why are you pissed that she called you?"

"I'm not."

"You wanna know what I got JJ for her birthday?" Aaron wondered.

"Sure. What?" Derek managed, relaxing just a little.

"Pepper spray. In case she goes back to college and has to defend herself. I got her the fog, so it will disperse better. The stream shoots farther, but you have to have good aim, and I don't know anyone who has good aim in a crisis."

Derek smiled to himself. "That's not a bad gift," he said to himself. "Might come in handy."

* * *

><p>Spencer was enjoying a piece of cake and some ice cream at JJ's party. They were exceptionally delicious, which was why Spencer hadn't been able to detect the subtle filling of the space around him. When he sat down at the patio table, there had been no one there, but the next time he glanced up, he was surrounded. He set his bowl and spoon down with a clatter, but tried to stay calm.<p>

It might have worked, too, if one of them hadn't smiled at him, and laid a hand on his arm, just like the football players had six months ago. Even though it was rude, Spencer scraped his chair back, making his way up the deck stairs and into the house.

He collided with Dave at the door, who was about to call everybody back for seconds or thirds on the food. Spencer had started with dessert, and since it was a birthday, Mom had allowed it.

"Hey, kiddo. Are you all right?" Dave asked.

Spencer was not all right. Not even close. Because there were more people inside than there were outside. He couldn't breathe, and there was nowhere to go, except…he made his way quickly through the crowd, tripping down the last three stairs and slamming the door to his bedroom grabbing the walkie-talkie he kept by his bed. He remained a lover of all things old-fashioned and only used cell phones when he absolutely had to. They were useful for surveillance, but little else, as far as Spencer was concerned. He willed his racing heartbeat to slow down to something approaching a normal level.

"Penelope, this is Spencer. Do you read me? Over," he said in a shaky voice.


	38. Ripples

**A/N: This is going to be the last chapter of What Breaks a Family. Though it has, admittedly, been a difficult story to write, I don't regret for one second making the choice to write it, and I want to thank all of you for your encouragement, feedback and positive energy through this process, longtime readers and new readers alike, but I especially would like to thank 12wallflower, 14hpgirl19, 2amWritersClub, Amyprentiss-reid, BrandSpankingNew, BrightlyShining, Chimericaldreams, Chloris, Craftygirl11, Claire Randall Fraser, Crayolakid0413, Crazyobsession101, , D, Daisyangel, darktwistygirl, Dino-dog83, dreamsweetmydear, Eeyore08, HpDork FreakaZiod, Hxchick, ilovereid, IwKa, Jenny Crum, jgroovydaisy, JillR, jojo831, Kdzl, Luv2write0205, Magpiezz, Miss R Hood, Mjandersen, Musewars, PenNuser, Pinkturtle55, pipinheart, Rach5, Reelingthoughts, Remy, Shannon, SilentStardust, Stayshiny, Sugarhigh9394, Susannah2000, Tara621, theangelsarecoming, Velizara95, Whatif-ifonly, xxxSQ215xxx Yanirose & guests for your support. If you would like to read more adventures in the What Makes a Family universe, please check out What Unites a Family, which takes place immediately after What Makes a Family ends.**

**I hope you enjoy the last chapter.**

Spencer kept his call going indefinitely. Chances were, eventually, someone would hear it. Hopefully, that person would be Penelope. He was sweating and shaking and hoping no one followed him down here. Taking the walkie-talkie with him, Spencer started piling things in front of his door. A desk chair. His satchel. A large piece of luggage filled with extra blankets. Lots and lots of hardcover books. He was not strong enough to move his desk, dresser or bookcase, so these would have to do. Then, he sat in front of the door himself. Spencer had heavy doubts that an extra 74 pounds of weight would stop people who really wanted to get in and do him harm, but he had to try.

"Spencer to Penelope. Over?" he tried, his voice shaking. His eyes fell on the scars around his wrists. He did not usually look at them, but his wrist was in his direct line of sight and Spencer couldn't help it. The rope burns had been the most severe there, and Spencer fixed himself up via advice on a website that Aaron used to tease him about. It had made Spencer feel small. But what else could he have done? It was three days before Derek found out about what happened. By then, they were healing, but they weren't healed. Thankfully, with time, they had. Spencer thought about unzipping the luggage and getting some blankets. The shaking was bad and he was so cold. He hated being cold. However, if he got blankets out of the suitcase, there might be less weight against the door.

Tears slid down his cheeks. "Penelope, please come in…" he whimpered.

* * *

><p>Emily rushed through the house, trying to do ten-thousand little things. She needed her painting for JJ to dry. She needed JJ's mood to pick up, and for Derek to hurry and get back with his last minute gift. She called him again and left a message, knowing that he had picked up Aaron from therapy and that Derek had mentioned something about the mall.<p>

"Derek, it's Mom. We're looking to do presents sometime in this century, okay? So, try to make a decision and drive safely, okay? We'll wait for you and Aaron to do presents."

"Hey, Emily?" Dave asked, surprising her, just as she hung up the phone. "I have to bring out more lasagna, but Spencer took off through here a little bit ago. Looked pretty shaken up."

"Thanks, Dave," Emily said, and changed directions, forgetting about the painting and everything else. Instead, she made her way downstairs and tapped on the door to Spencer's room before turning the handle.

The door wouldn't budge. "Spencer, it's Mom. Open the door, please," she said, trying to stay calm. It had taken him a month to earn his door back after his bullying - and his impulsive plan as to how to deal with it - were brought to light. She didn't like the idea of her twelve year old barricaded in his room for any reason.

"I can't," he gasped. "Please go away."

"Spencer. Answer me honestly, honey. Are you safe right now?" Emily pressed, her voice low and calm.

"Yes, if I can stay in here. Just please don't come in. You'll make it worse. I'm having a stress reaction," he confessed.

His voice grew suddenly muffled, but Emily distinctly heard some kind of distress call that ended in the word 'over.' She thought fast. The walkie-talkies. Penelope. "I'm going to get Penelope for you."

"Thank you," he said, his voice shaking.

* * *

><p>Penelope ditched her greeting duties as soon as Emily informed her about Spencer, hiding out in his room and sending out some kind of signal to her via walkie-talkie. She went in the back door and waited outside his door.<p>

"Spencer, it's Penelope," she called gently. "What's your 20?"

"Where's your walkie-talkie?" he shot back. "You can't come in here…"

"No one else is out here. I swear, my most excellent big sister promise in the universe, okay? Please let me in. I want to help."

"I can't. They'll get in…" he managed, his voice breathy.

"Honey, listen to me. _No one _is out here. It's just me. Everyone's either outside or upstairs. I locked the back door behind me, and I've got an eye line up the stairs. The door is closed. No one is coming."

Slowly, the door eased open a few inches so that Penelope was forced to wedge herself not-so-gracefully through a too-small opening. She closed the door behind her immediately and took in the amazing mess behind the door, and Spencer, who sat in the middle of it, looking traumatized.

Penelope didn't need anymore information. She sat on the floor and gathered him in her arms, covering them both with a blanket.

"What are you doing?" he asked, going stiff in her arms.

"Chill out, baby brother. It's called comforting you, and it's part of my big-sisterly duties."

"I don't need comforting," Spencer objected.

"Your trembling body seems to think otherwise," Penelope observed, and then let the silence grow around them until Spencer spoke.

"The crowd," he said, his voice hoarse, like it had been after he'd caught Aaron's bullies in the act. "I didn't notice them at first. I wasn't paying sufficient attention. I sat down alone to eat my cake and the next time I glanced up, they were all around me. And then one of them smiled at me…and laid a hand on my arm," he confessed, shuddering. "It reminded me of the football team…"

"Sounds terrifying," Penelope said, and meant it.

"It was," Spencer confirmed, swallowing. "Extremely."

"I'm here now, and whenever you're ready we can go back to the party. I'll stay right with you. The buddy system. How does that sound?"

"Unwise," Spencer said, drawing closer to her. "It still feels dangerous to me."

"Well, then, maybe we'll wait 'til all the guests go home, and go out when it's just family. Sound good?"

"Yes," Spencer admitted, breathing a sigh of relief.

* * *

><p>JJ glanced up as she heard familiar voices. Derek and Aaron were coming toward her, big smiles on their faces. She couldn't even enjoy the cake, really, but she was glad they were there. She didn't have the heart to tell her mom that she didn't want a whole bunch of people over to celebrate her. Thankfully, the crowd was starting to thin out. JJ didn't feel like she deserved to be celebrated. After all, she had screwed up her own life, and now there were medical bills and pain, not to mention the hell she'd put her family through. She walked unsteadily around the side of the house and leaned against it, standing just inside the wooden fence. Reaching into her pocket, she felt the pack of cigarettes and pulled them out. She was prepared to light one until she remembered that she didn't have a lighter. Of course not. JJ could barely tie her own shoes, what would she do with a lighter? She crammed the cigarettes back into her pocket. It was definitely better to forget about them, but it didn't make her feel any better.<p>

"Hey, baby."

God. Neither did that voice. JJ glanced over, making out Stan, as he scaled the fence and dropped down in front of her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"You look better than I thought," he complimented. "Even if your hair is kinda short and those glasses are kinda stupid."

"What are you _doing _here?" JJ pressed, enunciating each word carefully, for his benefit.

"Came to wish you a happy birthday. What'd you think I was here for?" he asked, leaning close and breathing into her ear. She nearly gagged at the alcohol on his breath. He leaned in and kissed her before she could react. It was wet, awkward, and disgusting. She shoved him away, trying to keep her balance.

She hadn't thought this through. Over here by the fence had been a great option for privacy, but it was also terrible for the same reasons. No one could easily see her here. Not unless they came looking.

"What's wrong, baby? Don't you remember how hot we were? You need me now. And let's face it, I'm doing you a favor. So, let's sit down, have some cake, and I don't know…maybe some drinks…loosen you up…"

"I can't," she told him honestly, Spencer's warning echoing in her head about not mixing her anti-seizure medicine and alcohol. Remembering that it was drinking that led her here in the first place, with a brain injury and difficulty with nearly everything she used to take for granted.

"Sure, you can," he urged. "Come on. I just want to see you."

"Okay, you did. So you can go," JJ insisted.

"What?" Stan hissed. "What did you say to me? Who do you think you are, you little bitch?" he asked squeezing her shoulders tightly.

* * *

><p>Aaron had finally managed to shake Derek. He hadn't liked leaving Aaron alone, especially when there was food involved. Derek had been preoccupied by something before, but the minute Dave's lasagna and salad and garlic bread came into view Derek was like some kind of guard at Aaron's side, constantly asking, "You good?"<p>

In a way, it was kind of nice. Food was still a difficult area for him to navigate. Any change at all in the routine of it might set Aaron back. The good thing was, Derek knew it. He stuck close to Aaron's side, while he went through the buffet style line in the kitchen, and then sat with him when Aaron found a place at the table. He didn't go outside, because he knew he couldn't have eaten. It would have messed with his head too much. So, he'd stayed inside, and made a concerted effort to eat everything he'd served himself. He felt better when he treated himself well, anyway.

"Okay, I'm done," Aaron said.

"All right, cool. I'm gonna wrap JJ's stuff," Derek decided, taking off to find tape and scissors.

"Hey, will you wrap mine, too?" Aaron called. He hated wrapping stuff. He wasn't any good at it, and JJ deserved things that looked nice.

"Sure, kid," Derek nodded.

Aaron headed outside, through the back door and surveyed the yard from the deck. JJ was usually easy to spot, which was why Aaron thought it was weird that he didn't see her right away. She hadn't been in the house, either.

Deliberately, he walked down the stairs, greeting the guests with practiced politeness and asking if any of them had seen JJ. None had. Aaron was working his way toward the corner of the house when a sound caught his attention. It was strange and strained. Like a curse, only muffled.

Aaron came around the house, and his entire body tensed as he saw Stan Hoban kissing JJ roughly, his fingers digging into her arms. Her entire body was stiff and her legs were shaking. Her lips were pressed together and she was doing her best to keep space between them. Aaron didn't even think as he wedged himself between them, and shoved Stan back. Defending others always had come easier than defending himself.

"Get out of here before I call the cops," Aaron said, his voice flat and certain.

"You really wanna do that and ruin JJ's nice party?" Stan asked, his voice mocking.

"Seems like you already did an adequate job of that," Aaron said. He moved to JJ's side, putting an arm around her in support. "Did he hurt you?"

JJ bristled. "Too weak," she spat.

Stan's jaw tightened and he lunged for JJ, but Aaron blocked her and knocked Stan to the ground with a single well-placed punch to the nose.

"You're an asshole," Stan exclaimed, but quieted when Aaron merely took an intentional step toward him. "You're nothing, JJ. Just a brain-damaged little tease," he gasped as his nose bled. "I'm the best you could get, and now? You got nothing."

"I have _my family_," JJ said fiercely.

"What the hell is goin' on?" Derek exclaimed as Stan undid the latch and stumbled out to the yard and toward his car.

"We handled it," JJ said confidently, though she was still shaking. "Aaron hesitated me. I mean, _protected_. Aaron _protected _me."

There was a pause while Aaron caught his breath and Derek watched Stan retreat.

"Can someone call him a cab?" JJ asked tentatively. "He's drunk as hell…"

"Yeah, let's do that," Derek confirmed, and with JJ between them, Aaron and Derek walked with their arms around their sister until they found her a chair. And Derek pulled out his phone and dialed.

* * *

><p>"Sounds like we missed some excitement," Penelope speculated, as she, Spencer, JJ, Aaron, Derek, Emily and Dave sat around in the fading April light.<p>

"Not that exciting," JJ shook her head, trying to keep her energy up. She had already been social for an undetermined amount of time, ate cake, fended off a stalker, and opened gifts - Aaron's had been her favorite - but she tried to keep that to herself because she didn't want to hurt anyone else's feelings.

"Seriously, are you okay?" Emily asked.

"Fine," she confirmed, "thanks to you guys."

"I'm sorry I didn't get you a present. I just really didn't know what you wanted." Spencer said, genuinely regretful. He was practically sitting in Penelope's lap, but she seemed okay with it, so no one commented.

"I have everything I want." JJ said, tired but happy, "Right here."

* * *

><p>Is a family still a family when it's broken beyond repair?<p>

The question lingered in Emily's mind, just as it had months before in the moments just prior to her life changing forever. It haunted the edges of her mind and memory when Spencer hugged her goodnight and thanked her again for helping him. She thought about it when Penelope embraced her, and told her she'd be heading back to Pennsylvania tomorrow, then hugged JJ, and followed Spencer inside. She breathed it in as she watched Aaron hesitate, his knuckles bruised from defending his sister - as he whispered "I love you" in her ear and thanked her for being his mother. It reverberated when Derek stood awkwardly, and then scooted his chair closer to her in the dark, confessing that he and Jordan were serious. That she might be the one. And would Emily give her blessing if he, someday, decided to propose? Emily affirmed them all, until she was left with just Dave and JJ.

She watched carefully as Dave handed her an envelope. "Happy birthday from your grandma," he said, choking on the words.

"How…" JJ breathed.

"Jordan dropped it off. She said it looked important. It is." Dave confirmed. Emily reached for his hand, brokenness a memory at the back of her throat, as JJ tried to read the note but could not manage either because of the dark, her eyesight or emotion. She set it on the table and nodded at Emily.

Carefully, she picked up the paper and read:

"_Dear JJ,_

_There are only three things you need to know in the wake of this. I love you. I will protect you. And I will be your angel, guiding and guarding you. Love, Gram."_

JJ was speechless. Dave was speechless, and Emily was most definitely beyond any coherent words. JJ just stared at the letter, touching it gently and nodding to herself, as if to say that it all made sense somehow. Finally, Dave excused himself, wishing JJ a happy birthday and kissing both her and Emily on the tops of their heads.

Suddenly, it was just Emily and JJ. They stared at the letter until JJ got unsteadily to her feet and extended a hand to Emily. They walked in the house together, past Penelope on the couch, and to JJ's room where she got into bed, fully clothed. Emily stood in the doorway, turning off the light when JJ gave the okay.

Emily was about to leave when something stopped her short. Made her seize the moment and ask the question that hovered behind her lips. "What do you think you'd like to be?" she asked. "In the future?"

"An artist. Like you," JJ answered honestly, surprising Emily.

"Why?"

"Because…you can make _anything_ beautiful…" JJ yawned.

That was when Emily knew for sure that her family would suffer tragedy and torment. Her family might crack under pressure and do all the wrong things while trying in vain to just do the right ones. But she knew that a family _was _still a family, because its bonds were never truly broken.

Because there was always hope.

_The End._


End file.
